


The Best Mistake

by 1nerdylibrarian



Series: It could have happened that way [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Adding tags as I go along, Baby Toushirou, Complete, F/M, Fix-It, Married Couple, Rewrite, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 73
Words: 167,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26600554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1nerdylibrarian/pseuds/1nerdylibrarian
Summary: What could have happened if Gin and Rangiku were Toshiro’s parents. Having a baby really does change everything.
Relationships: Aizen Sousuke & Ichimaru Gin, Hitsugaya Toushirou & Ichimaru Gin, Hitsugaya Toushirou & Matsumoto Rangiku, Ichimaru Gin/Matsumoto Rangiku, Ise Nanao/Hisagi Shuhei, Kuchiki Byakuya/Kuchiki Hisana, Shiba Kaien/Shiba Miyako, Ukitake Juushirou/Kurotsuchi Nemu
Series: It could have happened that way [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041660
Comments: 46
Kudos: 164





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I published this on FF about a year ago, but I had a friend point out that not everyone reads here and there so I thought I’d cross-post it. I’m revising it a little as I go, but it’ll basically be the same.

Rangiku chewed nervously on her thumb nail as she paced back and forth in the dark room. It wasn't much good for pacing as it was small and pacing across tatami never did feel right. Stupid Fifth Division! She very nearly growled out loud. Why were they so stuck on their traditions?   
She glanced at the shoji wall every few times across the room. The sunlight was gone, and only the gentle glow of moonlight shone through the rice paper. Everything about the room was gentle and calming, and that did nothing but annoy her. She did not want to calm down. She wanted to scream and yell and very possibly hit someone, this room’s occupant if he would just show up already.   
Ten minutes later she was sliding back the painted door of his closet and looking through his things. He never drank with her, but that didn't mean he never drank, did it? And right now she could really use a drink. She dug through carefully folded shihakusho, getting more annoyed by the second. Not only was she not finding any liquor, she had yet to find anything remotely personal.   
“Ran-chan! Imagine running into you here!”  
She turned slowly to face Gin, a very fox-like smile on his face as he looked down at her going through his property.   
A blush spread across her face. It was, now that she thought about, probably a bit rude to dig through his things. “Why don’t you have any sake?” she demanded to hide her embarrassment.   
His smile became a little more natural at her words. “Because you drink enough for both of us,” he answered. “Now what brings Ran-chan to my room at night? Did your captain order you not to go out drinking again? I'm sorry I haven't got anything for you, but I could probably pinch a bottle from one of the other officers if you’re desperate.”   
Rangiku turned around slowly as he spoke. She sat back against the closet door, drawing her knees up to her chest, and wrapping her arms around them. She stared down at her tabi covered feet as she spoke. “Gin, I messed up the kido.”   
The smile faded from his lips, and his head slowly tilted to one side. “What kido, Ran?”   
She raised her head, and her large gray eyes stared up at him, watching his eyes widen as he realized what she was saying. An expression very like fear took the place of his smile. He almost looked sick. “What kido, Ran?” he repeated.   
“I'm pregnant,” she said, fighting back tears. She’d known he wouldn't be thrilled. He wasn't the family man type, and any hint of a scandal now, when he'd just made lieutenant could be disastrous for his career, but until that moment, she'd never doubted he would stand beside her through it all.   
He looked away, staring past the wall of shoji, at something she couldn’t see. She watched the fear on his face fade, hidden like every other real emotion. It was at times like this that that habit of his really frightened her. “How far along are you?” he asked, without looking at her.   
“Three months,” she admitted miserably. She’d managed to lie to herself for nearly two and then found an amazing number of reasons to put off telling him for the last couple of weeks. She had been completely ashamed of herself until this moment, when she realized how right her instincts had been. Not only did he not want a child, the very idea horrified him.   
“Does anyone else know?” he asked, and he still didn't look at her.   
“No,” she said, getting slowly to her feet. “And they don’t have to.”   
She reached out her hand slowly, desperate to touch him but afraid he would pull away. “I'll take a survey mission to Rukongai; there's one starting next week that’ll keep me away from everyone long enough. I'll find someone kind to raise it after it's born. It’ll be fine, you know? I'm not really the mother type anyway.”   
She found herself jerked into his arms, held so tight she could barely breathe, and his arms, always so strong and so stable, were trembling. “I'm sorry, Ran,” Gin whispered into her hair. “I'm so sorry.” 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Gin-kun,” Captain Aizen called out as his lieutenant raced down the hall, late, as usual, for morning exercises.   
Gin turned instantly, stopping in front of the Captain with his trademark grin lighting up his face. “Yes, Captain?”   
“A moment in my office if you would. I've already asked Third Seat Shirakawa to cover for you.”  
“What have I done now?” Gin asked, his grin only growing larger as he followed Aizen into the office. “I can’t think of anything,” he continued, making a great show of thinking it over. “I haven’t annoyed anyone important, have I?”   
He closed the door behind him, and turned back, his smile freezing when he saw the frown on his captain’s face.   
“I have done something,” he said, uneasily.  
Aizen sat calmly and folded his hands on his desk. He looked deeply disappointed. It was an expression Gin had often seen directed at himself before, but always before in the presence of others. The idea that he had done something that might actually have disappointed Aizen had a shiver running up his spine.   
“You are very young, Gin-kun, and because of that I have overlooked many of your careless and irresponsible actions, certain that with patience and guidance you would mature into an honorable and respected leader among the Gotei 13. However, I fear I have allowed you too much leeway, and your shameful behavior has led to consequences that cannot be ignored. I will not have a lieutenant who does not take responsibility for his actions.”   
Gin paled. Aizen knew. How did Aizen know? Rangiku swore she had told no one, and she certainly wasn’t showing. Her behavior hadn’t changed. She hadn’t complained of any symptoms that might hint of pregnancy. Of course, she was always so lazy about work that she could have had any number of symptoms and no one would ever have connected her absenteeism to any actual cause.   
Gin swallowed back his panic, hiding it behind a smile. “Ran’s offered to take care of it, sir, and I didn’t want to trouble you with such a small problem. No reason to let it complicate--” he broke off as his captain’s frown increased. “Of course, if you approve I’m sure we’d both much rather keep the child.”   
“Matsumoto will make a beautiful bride,” Aizen said, his frown vanishing, “And any child of yours will be a blessing to all of Soul Society. I am sure I will be glad to mentor the child as it grows into a shinigami.”  
Gin stared at him, struggling to find anything to say. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling and not one he was at all acquainted with. He could always think of something.   
“Did you know, Gin-kun, that the reiatsu of children of shinigami often exceeds that of their parents? Especially when both parents are shinigami. You and Matsumoto should consider having a large family, considering how much of a blessing it would be to Soul Society.”  
“A large family?” Gin repeated.   
Aizen smiled. “Nervous, Gin-kun? Not the family sort, are you? I’m sure everyone will enjoy watching Matsumoto drag you to the altar at the latest possible moment.”   
“I suppose I will do right by her if you insist, Captain,” Gin answered, accepting the implied instruction. He hoped Rangiku didn’t mind too badly being the center of gossip for months on end—it couldn’t bother her too much, could it? She was fond of attention after all.  
“I’ve no idea why everything with you must turn into the talk of the entirety of Seireitei. Some people might think you wanted to be infamous.”   
“I really don't, sir,” Gin said, his fox-like grin returning. “I just can't seem to keep track of all the rules at once. I don't see how it's all my fault when they're the ones who made so many.”


	2. Chapter 2

Rangiku was sitting across from Ikkaku and Yumichika, of Squad Eleven, and next to Iba, who had abandoned Eleven, and was the newly appointed lieutenant of the most mysterious captain in the Gotei, Komamura of Squad Seven. She loved drinking with the men of Eleven. For most of them drinking was like fighting, an end in itself. She could join them without anyone thinking anything more about it. She really hated it when people thought she was trying to flirt with them, especially when she wasn't.  
She raised her sake with a grin and declared, “To moving up in the world!”  
A pale hand took hold of her wrist as she brought the cup to her mouth, stopping her inches from her goal.  
She twisted to see who had stopped her as the other three raised their eyes.  
“Gin?” she declared, surprise and annoyance mingled in her voice. “What are you doing here?”  
“What am I--” he leaned down, speaking into her ear, but still loud enough that Iba caught his words. “Hasn’t anyone told you what a bad idea it is for you to be drinking now?”  
“When did you become such a spoilsport?” Rangiku demanded.  
Gin pulled the cup from her hand, ignoring her pout. “Come on, I need to talk to you anyway.”  
“I don’t think so,” Rangiku answered. “I don’t think I like you today. Iba-kun’s ever so much nicer to me. He even offered to pay for my drinks.”  
Gin’s eyes went straight to Iba, who flinched back at the other lieutenant’s grin. It looked a little too much like Gin might go for his throat.  
“Don’t be silly, Ran-chan,” Gin said, reaching into his pocket and throwing a few coins on the table. “I’m the only one who buys you drinks.”  
“Then why did you take it away?” Rangiku demanded, reaching for her sake once more.  
“I told you,” he said, abruptly lifting her from the raised tatami floor, “I need to talk to you.”  
“Gin!” she shrieked, throwing her arms around his neck as she found herself being carried through the sakeya.  
Yumichika raised an eyebrow, while beside him Ikkaku burst out laughing. “You haven’t got a chance!” Ikkaku declared, loudly. “Did you see how she just let him carry her out? No woman would put up with that from anyone she wasn’t sleeping with.”  
Iba frowned at Ikkaku. “Rangiku-san deserves a better man than Ichimaru. What’s she see in that asshole? Now he's telling her drinking is bad for her just to stop her from enjoying some time with her friends.”  
“Bad for her?” Yumichika repeated. “Matsumoto-san drinks more than most women, but not so much that he should be concerned for her health.”  
“That’s what I thought. All he's doing is trying to keep her away from us, telling her it’s a bad idea for her to be drinking now,” Iba declared, throwing back another cup of sake.  
A slow smile spread across Yumichika’s face. “Is that what he told her?” he asked.  
“Yeah, he decides sake’s become bad for her, and she believes him. Poor blind girl.”  
Yumichika turned around and tapped the woman who sat with her back to him on the shoulder.  
The Eighth Division lieutenant turned around. “Do you boys need something?” Nanao demanded.  
“Lieutenant Ise, I have a question for you. What is the number one reason a healthy young woman would abruptly stop drinking?” Yumichika asked her, smiling broadly.  
“She’s preg--” Nanao broke off, looking over the table. “Where did Rangiku go?”  
“Lieutenant Ichimaru came to stop her from drinking,” Yumichika told her.  
Nanao paled. “You don’t think--”  
Yumichika shrugged. “Just seemed odd. I know he doesn’t drink, but I’ve never seen him stop her before.”  
Nanao drew in a deep breath and pushed back her glasses, pulling her calm, professional demeanor back on like a mask. “Well, I think it is quite rude for you to even suggest such a thing,” she said, and turned her back on him once more.  
Yumichika turned back to Ikkaku and Iba, a smile still on his face. “I’ll bet anything you’d like that our dear Matsumoto-san will be Ichimaru-san before the end of the year.”  
“Poor girl,” Iba muttered and didn’t bother to pour himself another glass of sake; he drank it directly from the bottle instead.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

As soon as they were outside, Gin shunpoed them to a garden near the Tenth Division gate and sat down on a little stone bench beside a still pool. He sat with Rangiku on his lap and brought both of his arms around her, pulling her close and burying his face in her hair. Once again, he whispered, “I'm sorry.”  
“Gin?” Rangiku said, twisting in his arms, trying to turn to see his face. “Gin, what’s wrong? Please, don’t. You can’t blame yourself for this. I messed up the kido.”  
His hands went to her face, and he kissed her. He kissed her with everything he had, over and over, holding her close and kissing her.  
At first she laughed, kissing him back. She always enjoyed making out in the park, but soon she felt something shift in the way he was kissing her. She could feel desperation and something almost like despair in his kisses.  
“Gin,” she whispered, pulling back. “Gin, talk to me.”  
He bowed his forehead to hers, slowly catching his breath. “I’ve messed up, Ran,” he said softly. “I have completely messed everything up, and I’m so sorry.”  
“Don’t,” she said, raising a hand to his cheek, trying to raise his head so she could see his face. “This isn’t your fault.”  
“I’m going to protect you, both of you,” he promised. “I will.” He raised his head and met her eyes. “I will keep both of you safe.”  
She smiled, hope glowing in her eyes. “You mean you want the baby?”  
“How could I not want your baby?” he answered, letting himself give her a real smile.  
“Oh, Gin!” She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. “Everything is going to be perfect!”


	3. Chapter 3

Rangiku sat back and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before calmly raising her eyes to Miyako. “It’s kind of rude to follow someone into the bathroom just to snoop on her. I’d think a well-bred lady like yourself would know that.”  
“Gin?” Miyako said softly.  
“I think it’s called eating the wrong thing for breakfast. I don’t know what it is you’re thinking Gin could possibly have to do with it. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t taken to poisoning other squads yet.”  
“You can fool all the other meatheads in this squad, Ran-chan, but I’m not blind,” Miyako answered. “You’re pregnant.”  
Rangiku’s eyes dropped to the floor. “What are you talking about?” she asked, wondering why she was even trying to hide it anymore. Had she spent so long keeping everything about herself and Gin a secret that she didn't even know how to start talking about it? She should be able to talk to Miyako. They'd graduated the Academy together. They’d been roommates since Rangiku had made Fifth Seat. She should be able to talk, but the words just wouldn't come. “I'm not even--I don't--why would you think that?”  
Miyako sighed. “You’re tired all the time, sensitive to smells and foods, gaining weight, and over-emotional,” Miyako said, counting off the reasons on her fingers. “If there are any other symptoms I don’t know I’m sure you have them too.”  
Rangiku closed her eyes. Gin had said he wanted the baby. That had to mean he no longer intended to keep their relationship secret, didn't it? Why was it that they never managed to communicate anything clearly?   
“Why would you think Gin?” Rangiku asked uneasily. “I've told you before, he's just a friend. We were kids together.”  
Miyako sat down next to Rangiku. “Don't you think that if you're going to call me your best friend you could try not to lie to me all the time? I've known you’ve been seeing Gin for at least a year. I know that you've wanted to keep it quiet so I haven't said anything, but you're pregnant now. You can't keep that secret. You know that, don't you?”  
Rangiku nodded slowly. “I'm sorry I've been lying to you,” she said softly.  
“Don't worry about it,” Miyako said. “He asked you to, I understand.”  
“It's not--he didn't want--” Rangiku struggled to defend the man she loved. “It's just that most captains wouldn't like it. They would think he wasn't properly devoted to the Gotei 13, and he wouldn't be allowed to advance. It wouldn’t have been fair, stopping him at Third Seat. He's so talented, even Captain Aizen says he's going to make captain.”  
Miyako bit back the desire to argue that point. It was true that very few married men ever made it to the top of the Gotei, but even so a good man wouldn't try to hide the woman he loved. If anyone told him he couldn't have both, he’d welcome the challenge, like Kaien had. He was a lieutenant, but he didn’t care if the whole Gotei knew he and Miyako were together.  
“Have you told him?” she asked. That was the really important thing now. Did Gin know, and what was he planning to do about it?  
Rangiku nodded. “He’s going to take care of us.”  
“Then there's no reason to keep trying to keep everything secret, is there?” Miyako pointed out. “Everyone will have to know eventually.”  
Rangiku nodded again. “I just--I don't want to push--I think I should let him decide who he wants to tell and when. There's no hurry, and it's a lot--a lot to deal with, don't you think?”  
Miyako thought it was probably a lot more for Rangiku to deal with than for Gin, but he was the man Rangiku had chosen, and if Rangiku wanted to be absurdly patient that really was none of her business. Personally, Miyako would’ve murdered the man by now.  
Rangiku smiled as though she could guess what her friend was thinking. “Don't worry,” she said. “I know he seems awful, but he really will take care of me. He always does. I trust him more than anyone. Really.”  
Miyako nodded. “Alright, Rangiku-chan. I'm sure you know him better than the rest of us. Now are you feeling up to getting to work or do you need me to give the captain some excuse?”  
Rangiku smiled. “Just tell him I'm hungover again. I’ll be at practice in a little while.”  
Miyako shook her head. “You’ve got to be the only shinigami in history who’d use ‘hungover’ as an excuse.”  
“I like to keep expectations comfortably low.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku would have liked to have kept everything just the way it was for a few months longer. She liked her life and wasn’t in any particular hurry to change it. Miyako seemed to think she should be behaving differently, and especially that she and Gin should be talking things out, but, really, the baby was months away, and what was there to do now but wait?  
So she did her very best not to think too much about it and enjoy her life.  
Only some people seemed bound and determined not to let her.  
Ayasegawa Yumichika usually knew what was going on. He wondered why most people missed so much; all he did was pay attention. People were very obvious and mostly fairly boring as well. Matsumoto Rangiku was as predictable as most shinigami, but she was also unusually entertaining and, even more rare, he actually happened to like her.  
So how could he possibly leave her alone? He’d gone to the Tenth Division to follow up on some paperwork for a transfer of a low ranking officer to the Eleventh and found the Fifth Seat napping on her captain’s office couch.  
“Good afternoon, Matsumoto-san,” he said, loudly enough to wake her.  
Rangiku yawned and stretched, automatically adjusting her shihakusho before sitting up. “Yu-chan,” she said, smiling pleasantly. “Do you need something?”  
He handed her a small stack of paper. “It's a record request for Mori Hiroyuki, no hurry.”  
Rangiku stared at the paperwork like she had no idea what it was or what she was expected to do with it, but that was nothing new. Yumichika wasn’t concerned. Instead, the reason for his visit taken care of, he turned to a much more entertaining activity, confirming his own newest theory.  
“Are you free at all this weekend, Matsumoto-san?” he asked pleasantly.  
“Oh, are we doing something?” Rangiku asked enthusiastically.  
“It’s Ikkaku’s birthday so we’re thinking we’ll invite a bunch of low ranking officers along to the sakeya and see how many rounds we can get them to pay for,” Yumichika told her, smiling pleasantly.  
Rangiku's huge smile faded abruptly as she remembered she wasn’t drinking anymore. “I’m busy,” she said, miserably.  
In Yumichika’s experience, there was no such thing as Matsumoto Rangiku being too busy for free sake. In the past she had skipped out on any number of actual responsibilities at even the possibility of free sake. The chances of his theory being correct were looking very good--but he wouldn't want to jump to conclusions.  
“Oh, we can do it any time,” he offered, giving her another chance. “It’s not really even Ikkaku’s birthday. It sounded like fun, but it wouldn’t be without you. When are you going to be free?”  
Rangiku only looked more miserable. “I don’t think I’m going to be free at all for a while.”  
“Not at all?” Yumichika asked, forcing a hurt look to his face. She was so obvious. Did she really think she could fool him? “We haven’t done anything wrong, have we, Matsumoto-san? You’re not avoiding us, are you? I would hate to think that I might have unintentionally offended you.”  
“Of course not!” Rangiku protested, and she looked so distressed by the suggestion that Yumichika knew he should feel bad about it, but he really didn’t.  
“Is it Lieutenant Ichimaru?” he asked. “Iba thinks he doesn’t like you spending so much time out with other men. He isn’t jealous, is he?”  
“Of course not,” Rangiku answered immediately, jumping, as she always did, to her man’s defense. “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone we were together!” she added quickly. “Why did you tell Iba about me and Gin! You promised you wouldn’t!”  
“I didn’t tell anyone,” Yumichika answered with some annoyance. “But if he will carry you out of a sakeya in front of everyone, a few people are bound to make assumptions—he is welcome to join us, you know. We could all go out together. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”  
“I really am busy!” Rangiku protested.  
“You were napping five minutes ago,” Yumichika could not resist pointing out.  
Rangiku growled. “This weekend. I’m busy this weekend!”  
“And forever after?” Yumichika asked, smiling at her obvious frustration.  
“Yes!”  
Yumichika shook his head. “Alright, dear, if that's the way you want to be, I suppose there's no point trying to talk to you, but if you do ever decide you're tired of all the pretending, I'll be more than happy to beat some sense into Ichimaru for you.”  
“What?” Rangiku demanded, but he was already out the door.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku and her crowd of giggling friends, all the female officers of Squad Ten, did not go unnoticed as they roamed one of Seireitei’s more fashionable shopping districts. Half a dozen happy and pretty young women were bound to get looks. They were used to the indulgent smiles of their elders, along with the occasional shaken head at how silly girls could be, and rarely noticed. They were too busy enjoying their day out even to bother flirting with the young men who couldn’t fail to notice them.  
It was beginning to be a good thing that Rangiku could block out all the looks and whispers beyond her group of friends. She was showing. No matter how she tried tying her obi she looked more pregnant than fat, but in the end she decided she didn’t care, and it was no one’s business but her own. The whispers and looks in the Gotei were bad enough, but here, among Seireitei’s most snobby, would be the worst.  
But Rangiku was very good at focusing on her fun, and she was having a fabulous time. They were looking over a stall of hairpins that not one of them could possibly afford and were arguing happily over which would best suit each of them.   
Miyako was the only one not laughing, and that was only because she was considering asking her parents for a little help with her finances. She needed to purchase a new kimono and accessories in order not to make a fool out of herself at the Shiba New Year’s Party Kukaku insisted she had to attend this year.   
None of the girls noticed a pair of gray-haired noblemen watching them from outside the tea shop across the street.  
“So that’s the girl Shiba-dono won’t get rid of,” one said, making a sour face. “Didn’t want to believe it when I heard it.”  
“Girls had shame when we were young,” the other agreed. He was even older than the first, and his wizened face looked like it had melted into a perpetual frown. “They didn’t go about parading their sins, all grins and giggles with their friends. They hid themselves away. They knew what they were and what they’d done.”  
“Someone should do something if Shiba-dono won’t. It’s a disgrace to the entire Gotei,” the first said. “I've been holding my tongue, but it's about time I went myself to tell General Yamamoto what I think of them letting these girls whore themselves out--”  
He stopped speaking abruptly. He had never been a shinigami, and he’d never once been in an actual fight, but he could still recognize the sharp steel tip of the blade that was suddenly against his back. It had sliced through the layers of silk he wore and pressed against his skin just below the level of his heart.  
“Now I don't think you've really thought that through,” a strangely cheerful voice said, speaking so close to him that he could feel the heat of his unknown assailant’s breath on his ear. “If you had you would have realized that she might have a man, most likely a shinigami like herself, possibly even a strong one, and if he doesn’t worry about public opinion, then it’s very unlikely that the tragic death of a noble or two would be of much concern to him.”  
The nobleman didn't dare move. His eyes went to his melancholy friend for help.  
His friend was staring back at him with obvious fear. “This is a public street, Lieutenant,” he said in a voice that trembled.  
The man with the blade to his back started to shake. There were only thirteen captains in all of Seireitei, and only the thirteen lieutenants, and for all that the Gotei liked to boast of its perfect military discipline, the twenty-six at the top were so strong they only followed the law because they chose to. They were all unpredictable, willful, and dangerous, and very much known for taking care of their own problems their own way.  
“So it is,” the lieutenant behind him agreed. “And if you both plan to spend the rest of your lives here you can likely continue to complain about the faults of others in at least as much comfort as you enjoy now.   
“Shall I fetch Yama-ji for you? He hasn’t heard yet about this shameful occurrence because you are right. If he knew she would probably be ejected from the Gotei. I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to keep it from him, but I’m sure I could find some way to thank you, sooner or later, for removing that troublesome task from my schedule.”  
“That really isn't necessary,” the man with the knife at his back said. “I’m sure the General has better things to do than listen to this old man's foolish opinions on how he should do his job.”  
“I wouldn't dream of bothering him,” the other man agreed. “I have the utmost respect for the General and the Gotei 13.”  
“I’m so glad you say so,” Gin said, stepping away from the two men and sheathing his zanpakuto so quickly it was unlikely anyone even saw it. He waved as he walked away. “I’ll be seeing you around, Komura-sama, Mitsui-sama.”  
Then with the abruptness of shunpo he was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Rangiku glared at her reflection in the mirror in the Division Ten women’s locker room. Her shihakusho had never fit particularly well to begin with. Much as people assumed her appearance was a choice based on an ‘if you've got it, flaunt it’ attitude, the real reason she always showed so much cleavage was that the damned thing just didn't fit, and now it was worse. Not only were her boobs really about to fall out, but her obi was riding up over her growing belly.  
Nearly six months, damn Gin and his stupid promises. It had been at least ten weeks since he'd promised her he'd take care of everything and what had he done? “Not a damn thing!” she declared aloud.  
“Rangiku-chan? Are you alright?”  
Rangiku closed her eyes for a second, drawing together the strength to face Miyako after this morning’s humiliation. After everything her captain had said, right in the middle of the entire division’s training session, she didn’t feel like she could face anyone, even her kind and far too understanding roommate.  
“Captain Isshin is an idiot,” Miyako said, supportively. “But he’s also right. You can’t keep pushing yourself physically. You have to think about--”  
“About the baby?” Rangiku finished, turning to face her friend. “He might as well have just said it. There’s no one who could have missed what he was talking about. Not that anyone was left who didn’t know anyway. Everybody’s been whispering about it nonstop for months--which would be a lot less annoying if Gin didn’t think it was so damn funny.”  
Miyako paled. She had never been able to hide the fact that she didn’t really think much of her roommate’s choice in men, but she had, so far, managed not to criticize Gin to Rangiku’s face. “He thinks it’s funny?” she said weakly.  
“Of course he does,” Rangiku said. “And it is, kind of. Everyone is so shocked, like they somehow imagine that, despite the fact that the Gotei is filled with young, attractive, single people with plenty of spare time on their hands, Gin and I are the only ones who’ve ever had sex--the horror! We have thirteen unmarried captains, and at least half of them are over five hundred years old; are we really all pretending that they’re all virgins? Yes, I’m god-awful at kido and screwed up one of the easiest, but the outrage at the sight of an unmarried, pregnant woman is a bit ridiculous.”  
Miyako blinked at her. She hadn’t really thought about it that way. It was a little bit silly how shocked everyone was, but at the same time she could tell that Rangiku didn’t really think it was all funny. She was very clearly hurting. “Maybe it is,” Miyako agreed softly.  
That was when Rangiku started crying. “Damn it!” she swore, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I really don’t care what everyone thinks. It’s just these stupid hormones. I’m crying all the time; it’s embarrassing.”  
Miyako threw her arms around her friend and held her tight. “It’s going to be alright, Rangiku-chan. Gin loves you. You know he does. He’s just being a bit stupid at the moment.”  
“Damned man,” Rangiku mumbled into her friend’s shoulder.  
After a minute or two Rangiku pulled back, wiping the tears from her face once more, before forcing a smile. “Well, I guess I’ve got to follow the captain’s orders and get over to Division Four, but if Unohana puts me on desk duty I’m going to resign.”  
“Don’t say that,” Miyako protested. “It’d only be temporary.”  
Rangiku rolled her eyes. “My career’s over anyway. The captain’s not going to put me on any more real missions. You know him, he’ll be all about how he couldn’t risk making my poor kid motherless, and none of the other fighting squads would take a mom, and I sure as hell don’t want to go work in Four or Twelve.”  
Miyako frowned. Four and Twelve were almost the only places one might find the rare shinigami who was also a mother. She’d met one or two others on support staff in other divisions, but Rangiku was right. Mothers weren’t put in the path of danger. She’d always assumed that was because they wouldn’t want to be, but Rangiku, she was a fighter, and she was a good one. She had an offensive shikai and handled her zanpakuto better than most officers in the division. Everyone had been certain that she’d eventually make lieutenant, and she was one of only a few shinigami who had any hope of reaching captain level.  
She had heard the rumors and jokes about Gin not wanting to be saddled with a kid. It was common knowledge he was already working on a bankai and people said he thought a family would slow him down. He was in too much of a hurry to rise through the ranks. He wasn’t even thirty years out of the Academy, barely an adult in most eyes, and he already had his eyes on the empty Squad Three Captain’s Seat. But maybe Gin wasn’t the only reason neither had faced the reality that they would very soon be parents. If Rangiku felt she was going to lose everything she had been working so hard to achieve, it really was no wonder that their shared approach to the baby had been denial.  
“Come on,” Miyako said, as cheerfully as she could manage. “It’s not going to be as bad as all that. Captain Unohana will probably still let you oversee exercises and practice kido. You just need to see her and get it over with. I’ll come with you, alright?”  
Rangiku nodded and followed her friend out of the division. She was quiet for a while, frowning as she thought something over. Miyako was starting to worry when Rangiku finally spoke. “You must think I’m awful, don’t you? Sleeping with Gin, getting pregnant, being so stupid irresponsible when I don’t even want to be a mom.”  
“I think you’re a good person, and I think you’re just worried right now,” Miyako said.  
“That’s for sure,” Rangiku agreed. She wrapped her arms around her belly. “You and Kaien, you’re gonna be great parents. You’re gonna be smart and take your time, wait a couple more decades to get married, and probably won’t even have sex till then, and then wait another fifty years, make sure your careers are where they need to be and you have a home and time and money to raise a kid, and then when you have one, everything you do will be about that kid, and it’ll always know it’s loved, and my poor kid, nobody wants it. It isn’t anything but a mistake.”  
Miyako stopped abruptly and turned to face her friend. “Rangiku, there is one thing I know, absolutely and without a doubt, you will love your baby.”  
Rangiku nodded. “I know, I just, right now I kind of, I hate it. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, should I? I really am awful.”  
“No, you’re not. You’re just having a rough time,” Miyako said, putting an arm around Rangiku’s shoulder. “Come on. I’m sure you’ll feel better after talking to Unohana. You’ve just been building everything up into a disaster in your head. She’ll show you it’s really not going to be so bad.”

Rangiku was sure everyone was staring at her when she and Miyako walked into Division Four. She had never been there before that she wasn’t bleeding or visiting someone who had recently been bleeding and very likely near death. It wasn’t a place you went if you didn’t have to. The long wards and strange smells of the medical division too quickly became associated with pain and death, and most shinigami avoided the place like the plague.  
She felt like they must know why she had come, and just like everyone else, were speculating as to if and when Gin might actually decide to marry her. Rather than going to the unit where the minor illnesses and injuries of Seireitei were treated, she headed directly to the captain’s office. If someone was going to try to shame her it was at least going to be the captain; anyone else and she might smack them.  
Miyako didn’t protest. She waved at a friend or two and was otherwise completely silent as she followed Rangiku’s determined path through the division.  
Rangiku knocked once on the captain’s office door and barely waited for Unohana's permission before entering.  
The Fourth Division Captain raised her head and smiled gently at the two girls. “Matsumoto-san, Seya-san, how can I help you?” she asked politely. “Does the Tenth Division have some business with me?”  
“My captain’s kicked me out of everything until I get a letter from you telling him what I’m allowed to do, so do you have a list or something? Safe activities for pregnant shinigami or something?” Rangiku said, lightly, dropping carelessly onto the office couch.  
Miyako blinked in surprise, and wondered if her friend had been training with Gin in how to hide everything she felt.  
Captain Unohana frowned slightly. “I was not aware you were pregnant, Matsumoto-san,” she said in that too calm tone of hers that warned of danger. “You should not have put off visiting me. There are many steps that must be taken to ensure a healthy birth, and the sooner we get started the better our chances are for positive results for both mother and child.”  
Rangiku flinched at that. “I’ve been eating healthy, mostly, and Gin insisted I stop drinking, so that should be fine, right? I even stopped sparring last month after someone nearly hit me in the face with a kido blast. Haineko absorbed it, thankfully. It was just some stupid trainee who didn’t know what they were do--”  
“Matsumoto-san,” Unohana interrupted, her voice now almost icy. “How long have you known you were pregnant?”  
“Three—four months for sure, and maybe another month before that,” Rangiku answered, avoiding the captain’s eyes.  
“Five--” Unohana stood abruptly. “We must do a full examination immediately. We can only hope that constant exposure to intense and chaotic blasts of reiatsu has not done any permanent damage to your poor unborn child. Please tell me that at least your room has been properly shielded so it is protected while you sleep.”  
“Nobody told me anything about shielding my room!” Rangiku protested. “Why didn’t anybody tell me? I’ve never heard reiatsu is bad for babies. Shouldn’t people know something like that?”  
“Barely ten percent of shinigami ever have children,” Unohana said. “It is not a topic that receives much attention. I do my best to inform married couples of the risks and have made a brochure for the Women’s Shinigami Association, but I don’t suppose someone as young as you would have much interest in women’s club activities.”  
Rangiku would have liked to argue with that, but the honest truth was that if she did happen to have some free time she had no particular interest in hanging out with a bunch of old, uptight, old women, which is what she imagined the association to consist of. “Still, it’s something people should know,” she said softly.  
“I agree,” Unohana said, pulling open her office door. “Now if you would come with me to an examination room we will take a look and see how things are progressing.”


	5. Chapter 5

Gin leaned over to one side till his head was nearly upside down when he crossed into Rangiku’s line of sight. “Hello,” he said, waving and smiling pleasantly.  
Rangiku was laying across their bench, her feet, arms and head all hanging over the edges. Her hands and hair draped pitifully upon the grass. She looked excessively and dramatically miserable, and, to Gin’s thinking at least, disturbingly attractive.  
“Oh, it’s you,” she said, dully, not even trying to sit up.  
Gin’s mouth fell open. “That’s not nice, Ran, not at all. Here I’ve been looking for you for at least five minutes just because your friend, Shiba’s girlfriend, is worried about you, and all you’ve got to say is ‘oh, it’s you’? Doesn’t all my effort at least rate a ‘hello’ or maybe a ‘my dearest, you light up my world the moment you appear’ or some sort of friendly greeting?”  
Rangiku fought back the urge to smile as she carefully turned herself over so as not to fall off the narrow bench. “Five minutes?” she asked, folding her hands under her chin.  
Gin dropped down onto the grass in front of her. “I checked that little bakery you like so much first. You’ve been eating a lot when you’re upset recently.”  
“Don’t you know you’re never supposed to tell a woman she’s eating too much?” Rangiku asked.  
“I didn’t say you’ve been eating too much. I think you’ll probably have to eat a great deal more before you start to resemble a whale. That is the goal, isn’t it? To be whale-like and wobble a bit when you walk so everyone gives you plenty of space and does their very best not to annoy you because they are honestly afraid you might eat them?”  
Rangiku smiled. “I don’t think I’ll eat you. You’ve always looked like you’d probably be stringy and dry.”  
“I think so,” he agreed. “I’m a bit skinny, but you’d probably be delicious; you’ve got just the right balance of fat and muscle. I’ve always been tempted to take a big bite right out of your thigh.”  
Rangiku sighed. “Well, the muscle is probably not going to be there much longer. Unohana’s benched me. No practice, no kido, no missions, not even routine guard duty. I can ‘oversee’ training, carry messages--no shunpo--and do paperwork. At least she said I shouldn’t sit at a desk more than two hours at a time. I think I’d kill myself if she’d stuck me on desk duty. I really do. I’m going to go crazy as it is. Three months without ever using Haineko! And then, after the baby’s born, I’m on leave for a goddamned year! A year! And she told me that like I should be thrilled! And ‘many mothers decide not to come back at all’,” Rangiku added the last bit in a fair imitation of Unohana’s voice.  
Gin tilted his head to one side, listening patiently as Rangiku complained, but when she finished he carefully brushed her hair out of her face and gently kissed her forehead. “Unohana frightened you.”  
“The baby might have some problems,” she said, fighting back tears. “Cause reiatsu can do things to it while it’s growing. She said you can’t really predict it. Sometimes it can even be good, but you just don’t know, so usually they place barriers on pregnant women in the Gotei to try to limit the exposure, but they should have started months ago. There’s no way our baby, growing right in the middle of Seireitei, could be unaffected. We just have to wait till its born to see what I did to it. What sort of mother am I, Gin? I'm hurting my baby before it's even born.”  
“Is that what Unohana told you?” Gin asked, his hands, stroking her face and head were gentle, tender, and loving, but his voice, spoken so softly and carefully was like ice.  
“No, Gin,” Rangiku said quickly, grabbing hold of his wrist. She knew that voice. That was how he sounded when she'd been hurt, and he was planning to do something to protect her. Only she didn't need protecting anymore. “She never said it was my fault, not once. And she’s doing everything she can to help. She put this barrier on me--doesn't it feel strange? And she's sent someone to put an even stronger one on my room. She's going to help us. She really is.”  
“She shouldn’t have upset you,” Gin said a little stubbornly.  
“She didn’t. I upset myself. I should have gone in months ago. I guess I’m just as much in denial as you are.”  
Gin’s smile returned. “I'm not in denial.”  
“Really, then what have you done? Other than giving people who stare at me really nasty looks?”  
“That’s pretty much the only thing I can do at the moment. Growing a new person is a strictly one woman job. I have been doing my best to keep you fed; in fact I think I may have something I picked up for you while I was in the World of the Living yesterday,” he said, patting his shihakusho like he was trying to find something he had stowed away earlier.  
Rangiku sat up with a sigh. “Really, Gin? Food? That's all you want to contribute? I thought you said you wanted to take care of us. I guess I read more into that than I should have. I don’t know what I was thinking. You aren’t--”  
She broke off as he raised his open hand to her. A diamond ring lay on his palm.  
“What--”  
“It's an engagement ring,” he explained, without a trace of the emotions Rangiku thought ought to accompany a proposal. “Just like you told me about after the first time you went to the World of the Living. Seems like a funny tradition to me, but you said it was romantic. I thought you might want one.”  
“For what?” Rangiku asked, there was no way she was going to let this be another vague promise.  
“For to get engaged, to get married,” he answered, still in that casual, straightforward tone that sounded more like he was suggesting a walk in the park than marriage. “You are going to marry me, aren't you? I enjoy shocking all of Seireitei as much as anyone, but I still think we should make it official. Living in two different places is terribly inconvenient for our sex life.”  
She smiled and lifted the ring from his palm. “It’s very pretty,” she said, raising it to inspect more closely.  
“It’s only yours if you agree to marry me, otherwise I’m taking it back. It was absurdly expensive for a rock, and I’m pretty sure Urahara cheated me on the exchange rate as well--”  
“You bought it?” Rangiku said in surprise. Gin had been an expert thief in Rukongai, and he saw no reason not to pick up the occasional toy or snack while visiting the World of the Living. It was one of many things he was constantly being criticized for, even if he'd never actually been caught.  
“I wouldn’t want to give you someone else’s symbol of eternal love and affection. They might have jinxed theirs anyway. It’s best to start with a new one, don’t you think?”  
“A symbol of eternal love and affection?” Rangiku repeated, smiling at the small ring. That was the closest Gin had ever come to telling her he loved her.  
“You’re the one who told me that’s what it was, don’t you remember?” Gin said with his favorite fox-like smile hiding any real feeling. “Just my luck you’d run into some Western couple proposing on your very first trip to the World of the Living.”  
“You know he got down on one knee to ask her,” Rangiku told him. “I think that part’s important.”  
“And I’m sitting on the ground. That’s even better, isn’t it?”  
“And he told her he loved her and would always love her,” Rangiku added, knowing just getting the ring was pushing him. Gin rarely expressed any genuine emotion at all. You could never take any liking or disliking he shared at face value. He was just as likely to be sarcastic, teasing, or even saying it just for something to say, and whatever he said, he said all in exactly the same tone, with the same smile.   
Rangiku read his true intentions better than most. She knew the smiles and the jokes and the constant games were a shield for feelings that ran too deep and had been thoroughly crushed long before she’d ever met him. She knew he needed the shield. His world had never been and never would be a kind place, but every once in a while she wished he’d lower it with her, if only just for a moment.  
“Do you want the ring or not? Because I am serious about taking it back, though knowing Urahara he’ll probably cheat me again on the--”  
“Of course I want it,” Rangiku interrupted, snatching it out of his hand. She grinned hugely as she slid it onto her finger, and held it out, wiggling her fingers to catch the sunlight and set tiny rainbows dancing on the grass. “Isn’t it beautiful? Everyone’s going to be so jealous!”  
“It is pretty,” Gin agreed. “Why is it only the woman gets one? There weren’t any in my size. The jeweler looked at me funny when I asked.”  
“You asked?” Rangiku giggled.  
“Well, why not? I don’t understand the tradition, and I told him so. I said if the bride gets a very pretty and expensive rock then what is it the groom gets? And do you know what he told me?” Gin said, looking up at her with a growing smile.  
“What did he tell you?” Rangiku asked.  
“He said the groom gets a very pretty and expensive wife, but the diamond is probably the better investment because in the long run it is both cheaper and stays pretty longer.”  
Rangiku burst out laughing. “He’s probably right, Gin. You might want to keep the ring and forget the wife.”  
Gin pulled her off the bench and into his lap. “I told him that his diamonds might sparkle nicely in the reflected sunlight, but my Ran-chan, she makes her own light.”  
Rangiku threw her arms around his neck and pulled him to her, kissing him soundly, not stopping until the sound of soft chuckling reminded her that they were in a public park.  
She pulled back, and then scrambled to her feet and dropped into a bow. They had been caught kissing in public by a captain!  
Gin got to his feet as well, but didn’t bother to bow, only nodding his head. “Good morning, Captain Kyoraku,” Gin said lightly.  
“Good morning, Gin-kun, Rangiku-chan, it is a nice morning, isn’t it? Just the sort of morning to be young and in love,” he broke off there and glanced over his shoulder with a worried expression on his face. “If Nanao-chan happens to come by do tell her you haven’t seen me, would you? She’s in a bit of a mood this morning, and I think it would be best if I found somewhere else to be for a few hours.”  
“Have you considered visiting Captain Isshin, sir?” Gin asked. “I understand he just received a package from his family estate. You must know they are considered the best brewery in the district, and his dear mama always sends him some of the best.”  
“Is that so?” Kyoraku said, looking interested. “Isshin never mentioned his family business to me.”  
“Captain Isshin doesn’t like to brag. I’ve noticed that about him before. He can be surprisingly humble about certain things,” Gin told him.  
“Maybe I should drop in on the chap,” Kyoraku said thoughtfully. “Haven’t had a nice long talk with Isshin in quite a while--well, I’d best be off. Have a good day, you two, but try to remember you’re in a public park.”  
“Yes, sir,” Rangiku said, still feeling a little overwhelmed speaking to a captain she barely knew, even if he did have a reputation for being the most easygoing of the bunch.  
“Have a good day, Captain,” Gin said, waving as the colorful captain vanished in the direction of the Tenth Division.  
“You know very well that the only reason Captain Isshin doesn’t tell everyone about his family brew is because he doesn’t want to share. He’s going to be really annoyed with you when he finds out you were the one who let Captain Kyoraku in on the secret,” Rangiku said.  
“But as he already hates me that doesn’t make much of a difference; he’s not going to support me for the Third Division,” Gin answered. “but if I can get old Kyoraku on my side, I’ve got Ukitake as well, and maybe even the General. They say he thinks of Kyoraku as a son.”  
“You’re still thinking of the Third?” Rangiku said.  
“Still need to refine my bankai and win over a few captains, but I think, in a decade or so, it will probably be mine. I was a little worried about Shiba-kun; he was all the talk of the Academy once upon a time, but, like every member of the Thirteenth, he adores his captain, wouldn’t leave the division for anything. And with Ukitake’s health like it is, he’s running the division anyway. When Ukitake finally finishes coughing up his lungs they’ll make Shiba captain of the Thirteenth. It's just the sort of nice smooth transition everybody likes.”  
“What about Ikkaku in the Eleventh? He and Yumichika just showed up a few years ago, and they’ve beaten their way to the top of their squad like it was nothing, risen through the ranks even faster than you did.”  
Gin smiled. “Ikkaku’s good. I wouldn’t want to face him in a fair fight, a bit too much like Kenpachi, and you know how much I hate bleeding, but I could take him if I had to. No, there’s really no one else even close to captain at the moment. I’ll just have to keep an eye on the new graduates.”  
“You’re very confident,” Rangiku teased.  
“With good reason. I am the child genius who graduated the Academy in a year. Captain Aizen expects great things from me, and he’s not the sort you disappoint.”  
“I thought you disappointed him every day, speaking of which you’ve probably got paperwork you’re supposed to be doing right now.”  
“So have you,” he pointed out.  
“Yeah, but no one actually expects me to get it done. Your captain still lives in hope.”  
“Shows what you know,” Gin answered. “The disappointment of a lieutenant with a pregnant girlfriend is outweighing all other disappointments at the moment, and I’ve got permission to go chasing after you any time I’d like. He’s even offered me time off to find us a little house. I think he’s getting a little desperate. Man of fine, upstanding moral fiber like himself can't figure out what the delay is.”  
“What is the delay?” Rangiku found herself asking. Immediately, she jerked her hand up to cover her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t pressure him. She didn’t want a husband who’d only married her because he was expected to.  
Gin’s smile only grew. “Well, I had to get the ring, didn’t I? And don’t you think it’s fun to see all the different reactions? Kyoraku looked jealous, the captain of the Second Division looks at me like she could happily take off my head, lot of your division’s the same, with Shiba’s girlfriend barely able to look at me at all, even when she came to get me today. She detests me. She doesn’t want me anywhere near you, and yet she really thinks we should be married already. It’s a bit contradictory, isn’t it?”  
“Her name is Miyako, or Seya-san to you,” Rangiku reminded him. “Not Shiba’s girlfriend. Would it really hurt you to learn the names of my friends?”  
“But you have so many, and I’m very busy. You know I’m a lieutenant now. I have to learn all the names of everyone in the Fifth Division, and I really just don’t have the time to learn any more. Tell you what, if you will get rid of all of your friends who aren’t in the Fifth, I will learn all your friends' names.”  
Rangiku raised an eyebrow at that. Now she knew he was just making excuses. “Right, you went to the Academy an illiterate street urchin from Rukongai and graduated a year later with a perfect shikai and the ability to read even the most advanced kanji without stumbling, but you can’t learn my friends' names. Knowing you, you probably already know all of their names and just call them by annoying titles to irritate me.”  
“Aaw, Ran-chan!” he exclaimed, managing, somehow, to look genuinely distressed. “You know it spoils the game when you say it out loud. Now I’m going to have to find something else to do!”  
“To annoy me?”  
“Maybe,” he said with a shrug.  
“I think infinitely putting off getting married is plenty annoying without you finding other things to add to it.”  
“If it really matters to you why don’t we just go down to the Seireitei records office and set up a family roll. We can’t afford a wedding anyway. Soon as I find a house we can move in, and it’ll take everyone at least a week to figure out we’re already married, could be funny, especially if we could get our captains not to say anything.”  
“You’re saying we should get married today and not tell anyone? Because it would be funny?”  
“Why not? Come on, Ran-chan, we never do anything fun together anymore, just the two of us,” Gin begged.


	6. Chapter 6

Establishing a family roll had to be the least romantic way of getting married in the entire universe. At least that was how Rangiku was beginning to feel after the first hour talking to a government bureaucrat had passed, and they still hadn’t gotten past the first line of the form. Gin had finally won the argument that neither of them had family rolls in existence that they should be added to, but the bureaucrat wasn’t willing to concede that Gin’s real name could possibly be Gin, written in katakana. He would accept hiragana, after finally admitting that some very unusual person might have named his child Gin, but the katakana was a step too far.  
Rangiku didn’t see what the big deal was and would have let the bureaucrat have his way, but Gin had gotten stubborn and was currently shunpoing to the Fifth Division and back to fetch his official notice of promotion, which had his name on it, and the man would have to accept as proof of its official spelling.  
“Is there any part I can fill out without him?” she asked, not feeling particularly hopeful.  
“I am sorry, Matsumoto-san, but it is his family roll that you are going to be added to, not the other way around. He must be here to oversee every step of its creation.”  
“Of course,” Rangiku said, leaning on her elbow and scanning the large room. She was only one of many people arguing helplessly with government bureaucrats. She felt even sorrier for them than she was feeling for herself. After all, she was getting married if they ever got this finished.  
Gin reappeared abruptly and shoved his notice under the bureaucrat’s nose. “See it?” he demanded. “Katakana, just like I told you. I know how to write my own name.”  
The man frowned and squinted at the paper for nearly a minute before conceding the point. He copied the name slowly and laboriously onto the roll.  
Rangiku’s eyes went to Gin. “Feeling better?” she asked.  
He smiled back at her. “You didn’t really expect me to let him misspell my name, did you?”  
She shook her head. “I’ve never even been sure it was your name,” she answered.  
“What do you mean?”  
“I thought you might have made it up like you did my birthday,” she answered. “It is a strange name.”  
“I happen to like my name. It's unique.”  
The baby, or demon spawn, as she liked to think of it, chose that minute to kick her in the side, reminding her of how they’d come to be here in the first place. Her eyes dropped to her growing tummy. Even with all the constant changes to her body it was difficult for her to believe they were really going to have a baby. “We should think of a good name for the baby,” she said. “Something unique.”  
“Nah, kids should have nice, ordinary names. They don’t want to stand out,” Gin answered.  
Rangiku raised her head in surprise. She hadn’t expected a response at all, much less one that sounded at all thought out. She was pretty sure Gin spent even less time thinking about the demon spawn than she did, somewhere close to not at all.  
She wanted to ask him about it, but he was now arguing with the bureaucrat again, something about his residence in Seireitei. The bureaucrat wanted to put him down as a resident of Seireitei but a citizen of Rukongai. Apparently proper sponsorship was required for citizenship. When the bureaucrat suggested that many shinigami were eventually adopted into established families, Gin’s eyes widened.  
“Of course, wouldn’t want to let just anyone in,” he said with a smile that sent a shiver down Rangiku’s back.  
Rangiku leaned in close to him and caught hold of his arm. She whispered, “What difference does it make?”  
“None to us,” Gin said, still smiling. “We’re welcome to live here as long as we’re a part of the Gotei and leaving the Gotei alive is practically unheard of, but if our child or grandchild should lack the reiatsu to become a shinigami, as soon as they are grown they would be asked to leave Seireitei--that is how it works, isn’t it?”  
“Children inherit the citizenship of their parents,” the bureaucrat answered. “You cannot expect Seireitei to hand out citizenship to every shinigami and all of their relations. We would be overpopulated in a century.”  
“We’re expected to die to protect your worthless lives, but you won’t even let our children live here?” Rangiku demanded, suddenly furious. “You’ll just kick them out if they’re not useful to you? What the hell is wrong with you people? You’ll just take everything--”  
“Rangiku,” Gin said softly.  
“Do you have any idea how hard--”  
“Ran,” he interrupted again.  
“What?” she demanded, turning back to him, glowing with fury.  
Gin smiled back at her. “Captains are given citizenship and the right to establish permanent family rolls in Seireitei.”  
“They are?” she demanded, turning back to the bureaucrat.  
“Yes, ma’am,’ he agreed uneasily.  
She turned back to Gin, smiling. “Then we’ll really belong? Our whole family, forever?”  
Gin nodded.  
“Then it’s alright, then. I know you'll make it,” she said, and turned back to the desk. “Could you please try to hurry this up? I absolutely loathe paperwork.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Three weeks later Rangiku stood in her captain’s office twisting a singular sheet of paper into a tighter and tighter roll. The demon spawn was just as restless. It kept kicking and pushing against her stomach, insisting she give it at least as much attention as she was giving the paper.  
“Hush,” she whispered, rubbing one hand against her growing belly, just as the door opened.  
Isshin stepped into the room with his lieutenant in tow, but the moment he saw Rangiku he froze. Miyako had given him a mouthful about embarrassing his officer in public and the lecture had led to him almost avoiding Rangiku entirely. He seemed to be terrified of saying the wrong thing and upsetting the pregnant woman again.  
“Ran--I mean Fifth Seat Matsumoto-san, what can I do for you?” he asked.  
Rangiku grinned suddenly. “It’s Ichimaru, sir,” she said, happily, holding out a copy of the marriage record for the division files. “Gin’s got a little house, and I--”  
Her captain enveloped her in an enormous hug. “Congratulations, Ran-chan!” he declared. Then, as he set her back down, another thought occurred to him. “But I wanted to go to your wedding! How could you go and get married without me! I have a speech prepared and everything!”  
“We just don’t have the money, sir,” Rangiku said. “So we thought we would keep it quiet, not make a fuss or anything so no one feels hurt or left out.”  
“That’s not any fun!” Isshin exclaimed. “What about a party, aren’t you going to celebrate at all?”  
“I was hoping you might give me a couple days off, to move into our new home, if that would be alright, Captain?”  
“Of course, of course! I am terribly happy for you, Rangiku, really, very happy. I must admit I was beginning to doubt Ichimaru; how he could treat such a wonderful girl--but he pulled through in the end, so good for him. I do hope he’ll make you happy, Rangiku.”  
“He always has, Captain,” Rangiku answered.  
“If he gives you any trouble, you just let me know, and I’ll take care of it for you.”  
“Thank you, Captain, but if Gin ever does anything he deserves being beaten to a pulp for, I’m sure I can handle it myself.”  
“That’s my girl,” Isshin agreed proudly.


	7. Chapter 7

Rangiku awoke to the sensation of fingers tracing slow patterns across her bare back as she lay on her side. She smiled faintly without opening her eyes, and said, “One of us is going to have to venture forth in search of breakfast. I nominate you.”  
Lips replaced fingers dropping light kisses on her sensitive flesh and one hand slid around her waist, following the gentle rise of her belly. “I have everything I want right here,” Gin argued. “My very own warm, soft woman in my very own warm--”  
He was interrupted by knocking on the front door and raised his head to glare at the source of the interruption. “Go away,” he suggested.  
Rangiku opened her eyes, looking across their entire tiny home, all of two six mat rooms and the low flagstone entry. The place was an absolute mess. Her things were still in a pile just on the edge of the tatami. They’d been dropped there when Gin had pounced her on her arrival. His clothing was in the back corner of the second room, his folded shihakusho being the only things in the entire place that looked at all tidy. The rest of the room was filled with piles of books, loose papers, and paraphernalia from the World of the Living that apparently Gin had been collecting for years. She wanted to know where he’d been storing it all before he had an entire six mat room to keep it all in, because there wasn't even room for them to sleep in there with all that mess.  
Instead, the futon they were currently sharing was laid out in the doorway between the two rooms. The second futon was still folded by the entry with a vase of chrysanthemums spilled across it. Gin had bought her some of her namesake flowers as a welcome gift and had promptly knocked them over while greeting her. Last she'd checked, the futon was still damp, not that they had room to lay out two futons side by side anyway.  
The rest of the front room was a scattered wasteland of dirty dishes and empty food containers and creatively discarded clothing. Even the entry itself had been wrecked with a pot of burnt rice on the stove and the remnants of an over boiled hot pot she had attempted their first night. There was a reason the rest of their meals had been bento. It was impressive how thoroughly they had trashed their home in only two days.  
The knock was repeated more loudly.  
“Oh, shit!” Rangiku said, shoving Gin away. “Nobody can see this place!”  
Gin rolled onto his back and ran his fingers through his tangled hair. “So ignore them,” he suggested.  
“They can tell we’re here,” Rangiku said, grabbing a kosode and yanking it on as she scrambled to her feet. “Put something on,” she commanded, as she scanned the room for an obi.  
“Nope. This is my vacation. There are only two reasons I’m getting out of bed. One is the toilet, the other is sex in the bath, and neither require clothes, so whoever it is is just going to have to be grateful it’s cold enough to keep me under the blanket.”  
“Only because you let the fire go out,” Rangiku answered. Giving up on the obi and wrapping the kosode around herself as tight as she could, she dodged through the refuse to the door.  
“Nanao-chan!” she declared in surprise the moment the door was open. “Good morning!”  
Nanao looked up and down, taking in Rangiku’s lack of clothing slowly. Then she leaned to one side to look curiously into the tiny house. “Oh, my.”  
Gin smiled at her and waved, “Good morning, Nanao-chan!” he said pleasantly as he leaned on one elbow in bed.  
“Is there something you need, Nanao-chan?” Rangiku asked, uncomfortably.  
“Have you even gotten out of bed in the past two days?” Nanao asked in clear disbelief.  
Rangiku blushed. “We have to go back to work tomorrow,” she offered as an excuse.  
“I wouldn’t have intruded, but Miyako sent me to warn you, as she’s too busy to come herself,” said Nanao finally.  
“Warn me about what?” Rangiku asked, getting a really bad feeling about it.  
“Your captain has persuaded several other captains to help him throw a wedding celebration for you and Lieutenant Ichimaru. He said that, as you are both orphans, the Gotei is your family, and we have a duty to give you a proper wedding.”  
“But that’s just what we didn’t want,” Rangiku protested, pointlessly.  
“That’s what Miyako said, but she’s been roped into preparing, as have I as Captain Kyoraku is one of the celebration’s most enthusiastic supporters. Miyako wanted you warned because your division has every intention of coming and kidnapping you in a little over an hour and dressing you for your wedding. Squad Five will be coming for Lieutenant Ichimaru a little later.”  
Rangiku sighed. “I suppose we should have expected it.”  
“Yes, well, that’s true,” Nanao agreed. “Captain Isshin could not possibly have let you escape without making a fuss. Well, I've done my duty. I suggest you dress and do your best to clean up before they arrive, or all of the Gotei is going to hear about your lack of housekeeping.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku did not feel at all comfortable in the white silk kimonos of a bride. They were suffocatingly tight. Three layers of silk were losing the battle against cleavage and the wide obi was riding up and wrinkling beneath her breasts. She had always thought brides were stunningly beautiful, but when Miyako pulled her in front of a mirror after they had dressed her, she had been thoroughly disappointed by her appearance. She had looked, in her opinion, fat and silly, and no amount of ‘ooh’-ing and ‘aw’-ing by the girls of Squad Ten was going to change her mind.  
She looked silly, and she felt silly, and she was finding the whole ordeal of a wedding reception quite disappointing. The fact that everyone around her was drinking Shiba family sake and she couldn’t might have had something to do with it.  
Captain Isshin, as the official host, was going around checking on his guests, and he stopped in front of Rangiku with a huge grin. “You look stunning, Rangiku-chan,” he told her, and then, noticing Gin, he said, “Sorry, it’s Ichimaru-san now, isn’t it? And what do you think, Lieutenant? Your wife is quite the beauty, isn’t she?”  
Gin turned to look at his wife. Rangiku returned his gaze with eager eyes. He so seldom complimented her directly.  
“I think that hat is going to give her a headache,” Gin said, finally.  
Isshin laughed at that and shook his head. “You know your problem, Lieutenant? You’re sober.” And with that he poured Gin out a cup of sake and ordered him to drink up.  
Gin’s eyes went from the captain to the saucer-like cup in his hand.   
“Well, what are you waiting for? Afraid of a little sake?” Isshin demanded.  
Gin frowned and drank it all down in one long gulp.  
Isshin laughed and poured him some more. “That’s more like it. Have another. There’s plenty.”  
“Captain, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Rangiku said as she watched her husband consume a second serving, which made two entire cups more than she’d ever seen him drink in his life. “Gin isn’t used to drinking.”  
“Don’t be such a wet blanket! You’re just jealous you can’t have any,” Isshin answered.  
“Very true,” Gin agreed. “Poor Ran-chan hasn’t got any idea what to do at a party if she can’t get drunk. Poor thing’s bored out of her mind at her own wedding reception.”  
“Well, I’m sure you can think of some way to entertain her,” the captain said. “I’m told you’re a very clever young man.”  
“Oh, I am,” Gin agreed. Then he turned to smile at Rangiku, and his smile was so fox-like it sent a shiver down her spine. “Poor Ran-chan,” he said, leaning closer and lifting a hand to her cheek. “If you’re bored we can just go home and go to bed; would you like that better?”  
He was nearly close enough to kiss with his foxyist smile perfectly in place.  
“Oh, no,” Rangiku breathed. “You’re drunk.”  
“Possibly,” he agreed. Then, abruptly he got to his feet and pulled her with him. “I’m bored,” he declared. “Let’s go say hello to all of our guests.”  
“Have fun,” Isshin said, grinning at Rangiku’s distress.  
Gin quickly found Miyako and Kaien and dragged Rangiku over to sit beside them. “Lieutenant Shiba Kaien,” Gin began, pouring himself another cup of sake from the bottle at their table. “The perfect shinigami nobleman,” he added, before taking a sip.  
“Please ignore him,” Rangiku said. “He’s drunk.”  
Gin turned a frown to her. “I am not, Ran-chan, or maybe I am, but what I am doing is having fun for your entertainment, so behave.”  
He turned back to Kaien, fox-smile back in place. “You are quite the gentleman, Shiba-kun. Everyone says so. I know it’s true because if you did have any dark secrets I’d have found them out by now. All you have is a crazy little sister who’s going to blow herself up one day if she can possibly manage it. Anyway, I thought you should know, because people may have lied to you, waiting doesn’t make it any better. It’s practice that makes it better, so much better, don’t you agree, Ran-chan?”  
Rangiku blinked back at him. “I’m pretending I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  
“You’re no fun,” he told her and suddenly drug her to her feet again.  
He had random and sometimes completely incomprehensible comments for most of the guests. Captain Kurotsuchi he told, “No one likes a peeping tom,” before hopping up and dragging Rangiku on.  
He stopped at the table where Captains Kyoraku and Ukitake were seated and actually hugged Ukitake. “You are truly the kindest person I’ve ever met,” he told the white-haired captain.  
Ukitake smiled indulgently in response, being more than a little used to drunken confessions.  
“I mean it. There are all sorts of people in Seireitei, good, bad, boring, painfully stupid, but you, I just love you. You’re like a puppy, no, puppies have too much energy; they can be exhausting. You’re more like a kitten. Everyone loves you.”  
“That’s very kind of you, Gin-kun,” Captain Ukitake said, only a little stiffly.  
“No, but he’s right,” Kyoraku agreed. “You’re a little white kitten, and everyone wants to pet you and take care of you.”  
“And you’re the puppy,” Gin declared, turning to Kyoraku. “We love you, but you require too much work. If you’d learn to do a few things for yourself you’d have your sexy lieutenant eating out of your hand.”  
“Hey, now,” Kyoraku began. “You can’t go around talking about Nanao-chan like that.”  
“Don’t worry, Captain. Ran-chan is more than enough woman to keep me satisfied. I’m not going to start chasing after your sexy little librarian,” and with that he was dragging Rangiku to her feet once more.  
The next table they joined was filled with Squad Eleven. They were glad to share their sake and laughed loudly at the way Gin’s pale face had flushed pink.  
Gin answered by taking a swig directly from a handy bottle, before declaring, “You know what I like best about Eleven? It’s the way none of you ever tell each other anything. It’s beautiful. There are so many lovely secrets at this table!”  
Rangiku blushed brilliant red. He was not going to start sharing everyone’s secrets. It was one thing to be a terrible snoop who spied on absolutely everyone he ever met, it was another altogether to get completely smashed and spill all the secrets he’d managed to collect over the past thirty years.  
“Gin, I think I am getting tired. Let’s go home,” she said, tugging on his arm.  
“But they are the best secrets, Ran! Really! Nothing like the science tech who likes to play with the gigai. These are just nonsense. All of these manly men--they’re afraid of nothing but their friends’ opinions!”  
“Oi, Ichimaru, you spying on everyone?” Kenpachi demanded, just as Yachiru looked up from her meal to ask, “What’s he do with the gigai?”  
“Yes and not for your ears,” Gin said, and he seemed to focus on the pink-haired girl. “How old are you, anyway? Shouldn’t we have an age limit for shinigami? Do you even know how to read yet?”  
“I’m not a baby,” Yachiru protested, getting to her feet, where her head still didn’t quite reach the level of Kenpachi’s shoulder beside her.  
“You look like one,” Gin said, holding up his hand as if trying to judge her exact height. “Human three, maybe?”  
“And we’re off,” Rangiku declared, dragging Gin to his feet and retreating from the table before Yachiru’s growing aura could explode.  
“I was talking,” Gin pointed out as she pulled him back toward their original seats.  
“I know,” she agreed, ignoring more than one friendly call in her direction. Gin was absolutely right. He could not be trusted with alcohol. She had to get him away from anyone he could anger, humiliate, or offend as quickly as possible.  
But a low voice called his name, and he stopped so abruptly she stumbled backwards into him.   
“Gin-kun,” a kind, gentle voice said. “Don’t you think it’s about time you introduced me to your bride?”  
Rangiku’s eyes went to the speaker. Captain Aizen sat less than two feet away from them, and with him were Captains Tosen and Komamura. All three were well known to Gin. Both Tosen and Komamura had spent years in the Fifth, and Aizen was his captain, but Rangiku, herself, had never met any of them. Her outgoing nature had not quite given her the courage to try to befriend the captains and lieutenants of other divisions. Seated officers were alright, but the top shinigami were still a little intimidating.  
“Of course, Captain,” Gin answered, but he didn’t move to join their table. “This is my Ran-chan--Rangiku.”  
Aizen turned soft brown eyes to Rangiku and smiled, gently. “I am very glad to finally meet you, Rangiku-san. Gin-kun is like family to me so I hope you won’t mind if I consider you family as well.”  
Rangiku let out a relieved breath; Gin’s captain really was nice. She’d heard he was, but you never knew. She returned his smile, and answered, “It’s very kind of you to say so, sir, thank you.” Then she bowed as well as she could with a pregnant belly and a too tight kimono.  
“Captain Aizen has always been far too kind to me,” Gin told her. “He’s looked after me since I first came to Seireitei, nothing but a skinny, little kid.” Then he turned to Aizen. “But you won’t have to keep an eye on me now, sir,” he told the captain. “That’ll be Ran’s job.”  
Aizen laughed. “Then I wish her great luck. That is one job I am happy to relinquish; it is not nearly so easy as it sounds.”  
“Oh, I know,” Rangiku agreed. She really was surprised at how easy it was to talk to Captain Aizen. Gin had, for so long, insisted she stay away from his captain and Tosen, too, when he was Gin’s superior. She had thought that he was afraid they wouldn’t like her, a cheap, shallow girl from his Rukongai past, but now she wondered. “You never know what he’s thinking,” she said, looking up into Gin’s smiling fox-face. “That’s what makes it so tricky.”  
“Would it help if I told you I don’t know either?” he offered. “It’s actually pretty random in here.” He pointed to his head as he spoke. “Like right now I was just thinking that Captain Aizen and Lieutenant Ise are the only shinigami I know who wear glasses and I was wondering if that’s because glasses are too expensive for the common rabble and we let them go about half-blind or if the people of Soul Society do not naturally have vision problems like humans and the Captain and Ise have some strange, rare affliction--perhaps a curse from a hollow?”  
Rangiku forced a laugh. Even sober, Gin would likely have been rude enough to suggest someone’s vision problem was some sort of curse. “That is pretty random,” she said, only a little stiffly, “But I don’t think they’re the only ones I’ve ever seen in glasses. I think that’s your imagination.”  
Gin cocked his head to one side for a second. “Perhaps you’re right.”  
Aizen laughed again. “I leave him in your able hands, Rangiku-san.”  
“Thank you,” Rangiku said, bowing. Then she added, “Thank you very much for coming--thank you all.” And she bowed low to each of the captains.  
“I didn’t know you had manners,” Gin said, watching her.  
“Please enjoy your evening,” she added, bowing once more before grabbing her husband by the wrist and dragging him away from the table.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“Now for the very best part of getting married,” Gin declared as he closed their door behind him, and, before Rangiku could respond, he had upended a satchel full of small envelopes onto the tatami floor. Every one of them had some version of congratulations or good luck and their names written across them.  
“Is that all money?” Rangiku asked, her eyes widening at the sight of so many gift envelopes.  
“Should be,” Gin said, sitting down and reaching for the first envelope.  
“Just a second!” Rangiku interrupted loudly. She climbed up awkwardly onto the raised tatami floor and hurried as quickly as she could to the second room. A few seconds later, she returned with a pen and paper. “I’ve got to write down who gave us what for the thank you gifts!”  
Gin was grinning at her and continued to do so as she plopped down on the mat beside him.  
“What?” she asked.  
“You waddle!”  
“I do not!”  
“Yes, you do. I just saw you, waddling back and forth like a little duck.”  
“That is not true! I don’t--” his lips on hers interrupted her, and she surrendered without another word.


	8. Chapter 8

As December passed Rangiku found it harder and harder to stay warm. It was unseasonably cold, but nobody in Division Ten managed to bundle up as thoroughly as she did. Three layers of winter uniforms under her heavy coat as well as Gin’s coat and a scarf and boots were required to keep her from shivering every moment she was outside. At night, under every blanket they owned and most of their clothing, she still shivered until they moved the futon next to the stove, and she burrowed in right next to Gin. He found the arrangement unbearably hot and was having almost as hard a time sleeping as Rangiku was.  
When Gin finally dragged Rangiku in to Unohana, the healer found her temperature to be slightly low but not really worrying. She recommended Rangiku stay home when it was freezing and otherwise do whatever it took to stay warm. Neither of them found her advice particularly helpful.  
As yet another storm rolled in, Rangiku sat on the futon, wearing two kimonos and wrapped in three blankets with a scarf around her head. All that could be seen of her was one hand wrapped around a bowl of miso soup and her face just peeking out of the scarf.  
She was glaring at the soup, trying to convince herself to eat it. Gin had very kindly fetched her breakfast from his division kitchen (he didn’t cook) and reheated it before handing it over.  
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he brought in another load of wood for the fire. He joked that he had to or he was going to get home to find she’d fed every flammable item in the house to the fire to keep warm.  
She shrugged, not that he could tell through three layers of cotton stuffed comforters. “I think I’m just getting stir-crazy,” she said. “Even I can’t sleep all day every day.”  
Gin looked around the room at the various projects she had started. There was a knot of yarn she insisted was the beginnings of a baby’s hat and a few scraps of fabric he was under the impression were supposed to be baby clothes, and untouched in a corner was a pile of books he had ‘borrowed’ from the library. “You could read,” he suggested. “Two of the books are on scatter type zanpakuto. You could learn how to control Haineko better.”  
“Reading’s too much like work,” she told him. Then she added, “You’re going to be late.”  
“I’m not late. I already went in. As far as anyone knows, I’m just not where they happen to be looking for me,” he told her with a smile.  
“Of all the reasons to master shunpo,” she said, with an answering smile.  
“You sure you’re going to be alright?”  
“Pretty sure boredom never killed anyone.”  
“I’ll come check on you at lunch.”  
“You don’t need to.”  
“I will.”  
“I love you,” Rangiku said, but he was already gone.  
She glared at her miso soup for a while longer, before finally giving up and setting it aside. She felt positively odd. She had for the past couple of days, really, but today was much worse. She wanted to get up and do something, but it was so cold. But sitting was so uncomfortable. And of course it was snowing again.   
She was so never doing this again. One kid was enough. There was no way she was going to go through morning sickness and being exhausted and bored and getting fat and clumsy and stupidly emotional all over again, just to have another--oh, great, and now stomach cramps, she thought as she shifted around in the blankets, trying to turn the bedding into a nice little nest so she could try to nap the day away.  
Gin didn’t come home at noon. She could hear the wind picking up outside. It sounded like the storm had decided to get serious. He was probably hoping it would calm down before he tried to come home. Shunpo in a blizzard was a good way to get completely lost, so he’d have to walk and he didn’t really have the proper clothing for an hour’s walk in a blizzard.  
She would have been glad he had actually been sensible for once, but she was pretty sure the stomach cramps were not stomach cramps but contractions. Of course her kid would want to come an entire month early. They weren’t coming frequently and they weren’t particularly strong, and Unohana had told her many women had contractions for weeks leading up to the birth, but Rangiku had a strong feeling this kid had decided it was time.  
She forced herself to eat her now cold breakfast. The baby needed the nutrition even if she didn’t want it. Then she started pacing, dragging her heavy blankets back and forth in the crowded little room. This was way too familiar, just being stuck waiting all alone, waiting for Gin and knowing that even when he got here he wasn’t going to be able to fix anything.  
Damnit! Where was he? The stupid contractions were getting worse, and she was getting nervous, which just ticked her off more. She was a shinigami. She’d been slashed and stabbed and bitten more times than she could count. She knew all about pain. Giving birth couldn’t be worse than being gnawed on by a hollow. Maybe it was just the fact that it was her own body doing it to her or the fact that she was supposed to do something that she had no idea how to do and honestly sounded impossible to begin with, but she couldn't stop worrying.  
This really wasn’t good. She was completely freaking out. Unohana said she needed to stay calm. Relaxing would help.  
Then a particularly severe contraction hit, and she found herself on her knees by the time it was over.  
“Ok, baby,” she said, rubbing her stomach firmly. “I understand you’re tired of it in there, but you’re gonna have to wait till we get some help because your mama has absolutely no idea what to do.” Then she added, “Sorry you have such a dumb mama. Maybe you’ll be lucky and take after your daddy.”  
Gin arrived home three hours later to find his wife kneeling in a corner of the now dark room, shivering and talking to her belly. The fire was nearly out, and her blankets had fallen from her shoulders.  
He ran to her without a word, and dropped to the floor before her, only to discover she was sitting in the middle of a damp puddle.  
“Rangiku, what--” He pulled her to her feet and tore off the damp kimonos, swearing under his breath at the icy feel of her skin.   
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded as he reached for a towel to dry her off.  
“I--” Her breath caught, and she clutched at his arms, pressing her fingers into his muscles as her whole body tensed for thirty long seconds.  
“Now?” Gin said, rubbing her with the towel as quickly as he could.  
“I’ve told him and told him we’re not ready, but he won’t listen,” she said.  
Gin picked her up and carried her back to the futon, covering her with the two blankets that were still dry. Then he grabbed some wood by the door to restart the fire, saying nothing even as he heard her gasp as another contraction came and went.  
“Gin, what are we going to do? He’s not going to wait. He wants to come now. He--” she broke off as Gin held up a hand, calling a hell’s butterfly, and sending it off with a message.  
“You’re going to get in so much trouble,” she teased, though her voice was tight and strained. “Those are only for official business.”  
He finally turned to face her, and for the first time she could read every emotion on his face. He wasn't even trying to hide it. Fear filled eyes that were opened far too wide, and she could see something very like panic growing in their depths. “I can't help you,” he said, and she could see the horror that realization brought.  
“Hey,” she said, smiling brightly, fighting the urge to moan as yet another contraction wracked her body.   
She grabbed hold of his hand and gripped it tight. “I’m pretty sure you can catch.”  
“Ran,” he whispered, looking sick.  
She forced another huge smile. Of course, her icy husband with his god-like control of his emotions would lose it now. “I’ve got everything else covered.”  
Gin just nodded and clung to her hand almost as tightly as she held onto his.  
“Hey,” Rangiku said, trying to find a distraction. “We’re really going to have a baby. Really. Isn’t that amazing?”  
He nodded again, but he didn’t really seem to care.  
“What do you think we should name our son?” she asked, after another contraction passed.  
“Our son?” Gin repeated. She had finally managed to get his attention.  
“Just reach out a little, you can feel him. His reiatsu is so bright.”  
Gin stared at her for a moment, and his expression shifted as he recognized a second reiatsu bound up in Rangiku’s. And like she said it was bright, not as small and weak as an infant’s should have been. Aizen was right. The boy would be very strong.  
He turned away abruptly, frightened of what Rangiku might read in his expression. Thankfully a hell’s butterfly arrived then, and he doubted she realized he was hiding anything from her.  
He held out his hand to the butterfly, and his expression darkened.  
“What is it?” Rangiku asked.  
“They can’t risk coming through the storm,” he said, biting back his anger at their cowardice. He’d made it home. Someone from Squad Four damn well could. “But there is a woman a couple doors down who was once a part of Squad Four. She’s agreed to come. She should be here in just a few minutes.”  
“See,” Rangiku said, smiling yet again. “I told you everything’s going to be fine.”  
It was almost fifteen minutes later when there was a pounding on the door. Two small, bundled figures pushed their way in before Gin had even stood up. Snow and wind swirled in through the open door, and Rangiku gasped at the blast of cold.  
“Zu-zu, you moron, get that door closed!” an elderly female voice commanded.  
The second person exclaimed, “Yes, grandmother!” and pulled the door shut behind him.  
The old woman immediately began unwrapping her scarf, revealing her gray head and sharp, black eyes in a very wrinkled face. Gin didn't like the looks of her at all. Squad Four had told him she was very ‘skilled and experienced’ but it now looked like that had just been code for old. He couldn't see how someone so old could possibly help Rangiku.  
“So,” she said as she continued to remove her outer layer. “You must be Gin-kun.”  
The way she looked at him, Gin felt like her statement was an accusation. “I’m Lieutenant Ichimaru of Division Five,” he answered, more than a little defensively.  
“I know,” she said, nodding knowingly. “I’ve heard all about you. I’m Ogawa Rumiko. This is my great-grandson, Zu-zu. He was the only one home or I wouldn’t have brought him, but I needed some nice young muscles to get me through the snow. He’s real impressed with all you shinigami, always watching to see you shunpo off to work. We live just across the street, not that you’ve noticed us.”  
Rangiku groaned, and her legs rode up as a much more serious contraction tore through her.  
“And this is your poor bride,” Rumiko said, stepping up into the room. “Poor thing’s awful young to be learning why a man’s sweet words ain't worth listening to.”  
The old woman practically shoved Gin out of the way as she knelt beside Rangiku. “You’re going to be just fine, you sweet thing. I’m Rumiko-ba-chan, we’ve met before. Do you remember?”  
Rangiku nodded. The elderly woman had spoken to her a couple of times, offering to teach her a few simple household chores, and Rangiku had shared some dried fruit with her as they sat on the step talking about children.  
Rumiko turned back to Gin. “Men have no place in birthing. You and Zu-zu can go sit in the other room.”  
Gin looked from the old woman to Rangiku. He was well aware he was useless and really didn't want to be there, but leaving Rangiku with a stranger when she was so completely helpless--  
“You heard me,” the old woman said, batting him on the back of his head. “Go on, you’re nothing but in the way here, looking at the poor girl like she might be dying; she ain't doing nothing but having a baby. Maybe you’ll think twice before you get her with another one.”  
Rangiku couldn’t help smiling as she watched her strong, arrogant husband being bullied out of the room by an old woman less than half his size. The woman swatted him more than once when she didn’t think he was moving fast enough and shoved her grandson through the door right after him. “I don’t want to hear one peep out of either or you for any reason. I’ll let you know when you can come back, so don’t try pestering me. The baby’ll come when it comes. This is one of those times even men have to be patient.”  
Once she chased them off she came back to Rangiku’s side with a small cup of tea. “This will help with the pain,” she said, “You just sip it slowly.”  
Rangiku frowned at the bitter taste but forced herself to swallow it down. “Thank you.”  
“You’ve a fine looking man, there, even if he does do his best to hide it with all those silly faces he makes. I can see how he managed to sweet talk you.”  
Rangiku grinned. “He didn’t sweet talk me, I sweet talked him.”  
“Is that right?” Rumiko said, smiling back. “Good for you.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

The second room was actually a usable room now though the front one was warmer and they still slept there. Wedding gift money had bought shelves to hold Gin’s collections, and there was a table now with cushions set around it that took up most of the six mat space.   
Gin crossed the room silently and sat with his back against the closet. He lifted his sheathed zanpakuto from its place in the room’s corner, where it had leaned side by side with Haineko.  
He set Shinso against the floor before him and gripped the hilt in both hands. He could hear the zanpakuto in his mind, trying to speak to him, but he wasn’t in the mood to listen. Holding onto the weapon was usually reassuring. It was a very concrete reminder of everything he had achieved. It was proof that could not be questioned that he was strong, one of the strongest in Soul Society, and that he was growing still.  
But today it didn’t help. He had been so busy focusing all of his energy on becoming strong enough to stop Aizen that he had forgotten the dangers of simply being alive. Aizen was not the only danger that could steal Rangiku from him. He had resolved to kill Aizen simply for hurting Rangiku, but right now, hearing her low moans through the paper doors, he was well aware he could hurt her worse.  
“I’m going to go to the Academy,” the old woman’s great-grandson said suddenly, pulling Gin from his dark thoughts.  
He turned slowly to look at the boy, a fragile-looking, little, fair-haired boy. He was so young, bright-eyed, and enthusiastic. What an easy, happy life he must have, always within the protective walls of Seireitei. Gin could see his hope and confidence so easy to read on his face.  
“That’s good,” he said, finally. “We always need more cannon fodder.”  
The boy’s eyes widened. “I'm not--I’m--I’m not going to be canon fodder!”  
“No?” Gin said. “You going to be a healer like your grandma? Stay on the back lines, let others risk their lives while you stay nice and safe?”  
“I’m going to kill hollows, and I’m going to get strong and learn shikai and bankai, and some day I’m going to be a captain.”  
Gin smiled at that, a very not-nice smile. “You a captain? Only one in a thousand even have the potential. The rest of you, sooner or later you’re hollow food.”  
“I’m not afraid,” the boy said, raising his chin in defiance.  
“Then you’re a fool. We are the gods of death. Every time a shinigami draws his blade someone is going to die. It is never a game, and fear is the only thing that keeps us alive.”  
The boy stared at Gin as his words soaked in. “Are you afraid?” he asked finally.  
“Every moment of every day,” Gin answered.  
“Then why did you become a shinigami?”  
At that moment Rangiku let out a particularly loud groan, and Gin’s knuckles turned white as his grip tightened on the zanpakuto’s hilt. “To become strong enough.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head to Shinso’s hilt.  
The boy stared at the shinigami, but Gin didn’t move again. He just sat there, the weapon standing with its sheathed tip against the tatami, held unmoving in his hands. The boy could feel his reiatsu like a dark cloud churning around him, growing thicker and darker by the moment, until it was almost visible to his eyes.  
There was power there like the boy had never seen, dangerous power, to kill and destroy, and the boy realized something in that moment. There was no such thing as strong enough. No matter how strong Gin became, even if he could slaughter millions with his bankai and became general of the Gotei, it still wouldn’t be enough, because all he wanted was the power to protect his wife from any pain, and that was impossible. Life required pain.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

After a wait so long it seemed infinite the paper door was slid aside and Rumiko smiled down at the two boys. Her grandson had fallen asleep against the wall, but Gin did not look like he would ever sleep again. He raised wide, frightened eyes to the woman’s face. “Is she--”  
“Gin,” Rangiku’s weak voice called from the front room.  
He was beside her with an instant burst of shunpo. “Rangiku,” he whispered, kneeling by her head. He pushed the sweat-soaked hair from her face, tracing the precious curve of her forehead, her cheek. He stared at her like she was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen, like all the world was wonderful because she was there.  
Rangiku smiled at him, a happy, exhausted smile. “Don’t you want to meet your son?” she asked, looking down at the tiny person nestled between her breasts.  
His eyes dropped to the baby, and his smile faded a little at the white hair, laying like feathers over the round head. It brought back memories of his own childhood, shunned and cursed, called a demon child--but that would not happen to their child, not here, in Seireitei. His son would not be hated for his appearance.  
The boy seemed strangely pale. He was wrapped in a soft blue blanket, but his skin was not a contrasting pink. It was almost as white as his hair. Only his scrunched up face seemed normal, eyes closed tight, a stubby little nose, and little round mouth all puckered and pouty. As Gin watched, he nuzzled against his mother’s breast and made the funniest little whimpering noise.  
“Oh, do you think he’s hungry?” Rangiku asked, and Gin’s eyes returned to her face. She was staring at the baby with an adoration he had never seen before. She was absolutely glowing with her love of the baby. She radiated happiness.  
Rumiko returned to her side, and the two women talked about feeding the baby, and the old woman got some pillows and helped Rangiku sit and get adjusted to nurse the baby.  
It was while the baby was suckling and Rangiku was talking to him in the silliest little voice, welcoming him to the world and his family and promising him every happiness that Gin decided he probably didn’t mind sharing Rangiku, not if the boy could make her so happy.  
“What should we call him?” Rangiku said suddenly, looking up at Gin with sparkling eyes.  
“You made him. You should get to name him,” Gin answered.  
She burst out laughing. “We both made him, silly, in the Tenth Division training gym or maybe up on the kitchen roof--we will never tell him that. Doesn't he look just like you? Gin, he's such a pretty baby. Don’t you think he’s pretty? Gin? What should we name him?”  
Gin smiled at his wife. She had reached that point of exhaustion where she would get very silly and start laughing at the most random things. “He’s very pretty, Ran-chan,” he agreed.  
“Right?” she said. “What should we call you, little Ichimaru-san?”  
“Whatever you name him, he will probably always be called Shiro,” Gin told her, reaching out to stroke the baby’s head lightly.  
“Did they call you Shiro, Gin?” Rangiku asked, looking up into her husband’s face. “Two pretty little Shiros, that’s what I have. How lucky am I!”  
“We’ll call him Toshiro,” Gin said. “That’s a nice name, nice kanji.”  
“Ichimaru Toshiro,” Rangiku said, thoughtfully. “I like it, but I will call him Shiro-chan, because he is mine--oh, I think he’s fallen asleep--is that alright?” She looked over at Rumiko, who had been moving about the tiny house cleaning while the couple talked.  
“Of course, and you’d better sleep too. That’s the first rule of being a mother: always sleep when the baby does. He’s sure to wake you up again soon enough,” the old woman told her. Then she turned to Gin, “You make sure she does, and don’t be letting her get up to cook or clean either, not for two weeks at least. It’s your job to take care of both of them now, and if I find you’re slacking off I’ll come after you with my cane.”  
“I believe you,” Gin said, smiling. “Don’t worry. Rangiku won’t be allowed to move an inch without me. Thank you, Rumiko-ba-chan. I owe you more than I can possibly say.”  
Rumiko nodded. “S’what I thought. I think your Captain Unohana will be here to check on them both soon as the storm lets up, but I can tell you she won’t find a healthier mother and child anywhere. He’s small as he’s early, but he’s a strong one. You’re not going to have to worry about him. He’s got a solid grip on this life. You’re a lucky one, Lieutenant Ichimaru of Division Five. I hope you know that.”  
“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed.  
“Well, c’mon, Zu-zu, wake up so we can go to bed,” Rumiko said, shaking her grandson awake. “Time for you to walk me home.”  
The boy sat up, blinking wide blue eyes and mumbled some incomprehensible protest. He slowly dragged himself to his feet and stumbled toward the door. His grandmother wrapped him in his coat and scarf and another heavy coat before she bundled herself back up for the cold.  
She looked back one last time at the little family. Rangiku lay on her side, fast asleep with the tiny boy curled up against her, and Gin had laid down behind her, and was invisible behind Rangiku’s pile of blankets, except his arm which reached around her waist to hold on to her in his sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

The sound of pots banging and dishes clanking brought Gin back to wakefulness some hours later. He blinked slowly at the sight before him. Rangiku was sitting beside him, her left breast completely bare as she raised the white-haired infant to her nipple.  
Beyond her was that Unohana? He blinked again. It was indeed the Captain of Division Four sitting on the far side of Rangiku listening with a pleasant smile as Rangiku went through the events of the previous day.  
“Good morning, Lieutenant Ichimaru,” Unohana said, pleasantly.  
Rangiku turned and smiled down at him. “Good morning, sleepyhead. You missed breakfast. Miyako-chan’s already cleaning up.”  
“What?” he demanded, sitting abruptly.  
Rangiku was right. Shiba’s girlfriend was in their house, washing dishes. That was not something he’d ever expected to see. The girl only detested him more as time went on; what was she doing actually helping out?  
Miyako looked over her shoulder at him. “Don’t worry. Ran-chan insisted we save something for you.” She pointed at a small tray with an entire breakfast spread, rice, miso soup, even fish--there was no way she’d found all that here. She’d actually brought them food.  
“Oh, you are the sweetest little thing, aren’t you? Coming here in the middle of a snowstorm just to take care of your friends. It is ever so kind of you. I can see why Shiba likes you.”  
Miyako glared back at Gin’s smiling face. “I couldn’t let Rangiku starve, now could I? With you in charge of her food she’d probably end up living on rice, and what is that stuff you keep bringing back from the World of the Living? Bubble gum?”  
“You don’t eat bubble gum,” Gin informed her as he sat before the delicious-looking meal. “You chew it until it starts to taste like rubber, and then you throw it out. Would you like some? I’m sure I’ve got a package somewhere around here. There was a funny mint flavored one that we didn’t like--why humans make medicine flavored treats I don’t know, but maybe you’d like it. You’ve always had strange taste.”  
“Just hurry up and eat. You’ve got to get to work,” Miyako answered.  
“Work? When I have a brand new baby and my lovely wife to take care of? How could I possibly go to work?”  
“That’s why I’m here. And don’t try to give me any more excuses. There’s a lieutenants meeting today, and I know you’re expected to be there.”  
“My captain is a slave driver,” Gin declared. “Captain Unohana, don’t you think you could give me an excuse? If you told my captain that Ran-chan needed me here I’m sure he’d let me stay.”  
“There is no need, Lieutenant,” Unohana answered calmly. “Rangiku and Toshiro are doing well and Seya-san is happy to stay here with them for the day.”  
Gin sighed. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

At the end of the day Gin appeared in the doorway carrying a stacked bento box wrapped in a patterned red cloth in one hand and a large pack over one shoulder. Snow swirled around him as he stepped inside, and Miyako was immediately shouting at him to close the door.  
He sighed. “Are you still here?”  
“Of course I’m still here. Did you expect Rangiku to be up and about by the end of the day? Someone had to make dinner.”  
“Oh, but I brought dinner so off you go,” he smiled broadly and gestured towards the door. “I can manage breakfast too so don’t feel like there’s any need for you to hurry over in the morning.”  
“Stop trying to get rid of my friend,” Rangiku said, from where she lay on a futon beside the fire. “I told her you would bring dinner so she’s made us some soup to go with it. I’m not nearly as cold as I was, but something hot still sounds good.”  
“You’re not cold?” Gin demanded. He was instantly beside her, his hands on her cheek and forehead. “You’re not.”  
His eyes shifted to the very pale baby nestled beside her. He was making faces at the dancing flames only a few feet away. Gin reached out one hand slowly. His fingers touched the baby’s skin, and he frowned.  
There was no way the baby should be cold. Rangiku lay on her side, curled around him. Her body heat alone should have been enough to keep him warm, but the fire was so close it should have heated his skin. His skin was almost as cool as Gin’s after his trip through the snow.   
“What’s wrong?” Rangiku demanded, her voice already panicked.  
“Nothing,” Gin answered quickly, then he added, “Just making sure he’s real,” with an embarrassed smile that calmed her fear.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku and Toshiro fell asleep soon after dinner, and Gin immediately carried his pack to the back room and started emptying its contents onto the low table. There were several small boxes marked Division Twelve, Research & Development, that Miyako was quite certain Gin should not have access to. Then he got out a small stack of books, and her eyes widened. Every book was also marked R&D, and had a Top Secret stamp across the cover.  
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked softly. “That Toshiro’s so cold? Rangiku had him wrapped up earlier, but he started turning red; he felt right, but he looked overheated so I unwrapped him, and he immediately looked better. He needs to be cold.”  
Gin smiled at her. “What a vivid imagination you have. Does Shiba know about your flights of fancy?”  
“I might not be a child genius,” Miyako said, crossing the room to the table, where Gin was already flipping through books. “But I can see a problem when it’s staring me in the face. Do you think this is what all the reiatsu exposure did?”  
Gin didn't bother to look up. “Aren't you going home?”  
Miyako looked down at the book he was flipping through. “Those are active seals. Even a captain needs special permission to access those.”  
“The head archivist of R&D is a close personal friend,” he answered. “And likely his only one if anyone else ever finds out what he gets up to in his personal time. I just pointed that out and he let me borrow anything I wanted.”  
“So you blackmailed him. You are absolutely without any moral compunctions at all, aren't you?” Miyako said as she sat down. She pulled the book away from Gin and read over the page he had stopped on. It was on the seals used to block eighty percent of captains’ and lieutenants’ reiatsu while in the World of the Living. “What are you thinking?”  
Gin turned and smiled at her. “Does that mean you are also without any compunctions?” he asked. “Because you are breaking the laws of Soul Society, too, now.”  
She looked down at the book in front of her. It was top secret for a reason. An enemy of Soul Society could use the knowledge in this book to change the seal or remove it or even create others to limit the power of the top shinigami in other places as well as the World of the Living. “Will it protect Toshiro?” she asked softly.  
“That’s the plan--now shoo. It’s nothing personal, but I don’t think we’re really close enough to commit high crimes together.”  
“You know you can’t manage a seal of this level on your own. I can help you. I’m better with kido than you are, and before you try to argue remember I was offered a position with the kido masters.”  
Gin’s smile grew. “Why are women always so willing to risk their necks for babies?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious. “He isn’t yours. How much could it possibly matter to you what happens to him?”  
Miyako shook her head. “Why do you see the desire to protect an innocent as suspicious? Rangiku is a very dear friend to me. Toshiro is her son, and if something were to happen to him it would devastate her. Can you understand me wanting to protect my friend from that pain? Is that enough in my own self-interest for you to comprehend? Or do I need a better reason?”  
“For Rangiku is always a good enough reason,” he answered. “No one can know, not Rangiku, not Shiba, no one. Telling them puts them at risk and increases the chances of discovery. I don’t care if you have to lie to their faces, even if they guess, you deny it. It’s the only way to protect them, understand?”  
Miyako nodded dumbly.  
“And if you ever go to anyone to report what I’m going to do, know it will cost your life and the life of whoever you go to. I have more eyes in this city than you could ever guess, and I will be watching you. No pangs of conscience are going to put Rangiku’s son at risk.”  
Miyako’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t have to threaten me. I would never risk his safety. If I don’t like what you’re doing I’ll stop you myself.”  
Gin grinned at that. “That does sound like fun, except that Rangiku’d kill me if I hurt you. I suppose I’m just going to have to hope you like my plan.”  
“What do you want to do?”  
“I’m going to place a limiter on his reiatsu every time he passes through the front door.”  
“What? How will that help with how cold he is?”  
“I’m sure Unohana noticed how cold he is. If she isn’t concerned then it’s unlikely to be a problem. In fact, it may be a useful distraction. People are unlikely to look for any other unusual traits when his unique relationship to cold is so obvious. It should satisfy their curiosity for a few years. If it’s discovered, his reiatsu is more likely to be dangerous.”  
Miyako looked at Gin doubtfully. “He's strong, but I don’t think he could accidentally hurt someone. Reiatsu has to be trained to be used as a weapon.”  
“What do I care about that?” Gin answered, shaking his head at her. “Toshiro's reiatsu is already high enough that if he was a child he would be immediately enrolled in the Academy, and unless he is unlike any other person ever, it will continue to grow. He is the Gotei’s dream, a born shinigami. I’m not having a bunch of power-hungry captains watching Rangiku’s baby, waiting like vultures circling, for the first possible moment to take him from Ran to train into whatever picture of shinigami perfection they’ve always dreamed of. He is going to be her child, not their weapon.”  
Miyako looked back at the newborn sleeping beside his mother. She had not thought about anything beyond his strange coldness, but she could see it, if she tried, enough reiatsu for a shinigami, not an officer, but an adult shinigami. And he would only grow stronger. Who would not be tempted to try to shape that power, to, like Gin said, create their own picture of shinigami perfection? And there would be so many ways to justify it. They could claim it was for his own safety and the safety of those around him. He couldn't be allowed to grow up like any other child, happy and carefree. He had to be trained.  
She felt sick. He would not be Rangiku's baby to the Gotei. He would be a new and exciting opportunity. “You’re right,” she said. “They’ll want him. They won’t care that he’s just a baby. Kurotsuchi will want to run tests, and even Isshin will want to see how much Toshiro can learn. It won’t even occur to him that there are things a child shouldn’t have to know. The only thing that ever stops any of them is if you’re strong enough. They never think about age. Why don’t they ever think about age?”  
“They’re idiots.”  
“So we’re going to hide him from them, right in front of their noses? Do you really think it will work?”  
“The limiter is designed not to be sensed, otherwise someone might notice captains literally can’t access their true strength in the World of the Living, and we’d probably lose a few to one of our cleverer enemies. If we can set it properly no one will notice, and he will not seem much stronger than might be expected of our child. Hopefully he won't be too much of a temptation that way.”  
“But why the limiter? There are other simpler and legal seals that could protect him until he’s old enough to become a shinigami,” Miyako said.  
“It has to be the limiter. He needs to be accustomed to his own reiatsu. Can you imagine if you had your entire reiatsu dropped on you suddenly when you went to the Academy? It would be completely overwhelming. He needs to have it under control by then.”  
“Then you’re still going to train him?” Miyako said, a clear accusation in her tone.  
“I’m not going to take him from Ran, and I’m not going to make him into a child soldier, but he is going to be as strong as I can make him. Strength is the only way a shinigami ever survives.”  
Miyako frowned. One of the many things that had always bothered her about Gin was his obsession with strength. He could be quite cruel to anyone he deemed weak, and he worked obsessively to increase his own strength and skill. Everyone wanted to get stronger, but not everyone blackmailed librarians to get books on forbidden techniques. “You are going to let him be a child,” she said softly.  
“A very happy child, I'm sure, if Ran has anything to say about it.”  
Rangiku’s child, that’s who they were protecting. Gin might be no better than any of the captains who might be tempted by Toshiro’s power, but Rangiku deserved to be able to raise her own child. She shouldn't have to worry that they would take him from her to make into a child soldier.  
“So how long do we have to work this out?” she asked.  
“As long as you can keep Ran from taking him out to show off and keep anyone strong enough to really notice his reiatsu from visiting.”  
“Unohana’s already seen him. She would never have missed it,” Miyako pointed out.  
“Unohana never shares her patients’ secrets. It’s a good rule to follow if you’re going to treat every moron in Seireitei who tries to blow themselves up with forbidden kido.”  
“Is this knowledge from personal experience?” Miyako asked.  
“I had to do something with my time before I started sleeping with Ran,” Gin answered, smiling pleasantly. “There's only so much time you can spend plotting the murders of everyone you know before it starts getting repetitive. Forbidden kido are a great way to spice up a dull evening.”  
Miyako glared back at him. “You’ll say absolutely anything, won't you?”  
Gin frowned slightly, thinking over her question. “I think so,” he said finally. “I haven’t found anything I wouldn’t say so far, but you never know.”  
“Just so we’re clear, I really, really don’t like you, and if it weren’t for Rangiku, I’d never come within five miles of you.”  
“That would probably be the wiser choice. I’m afraid I am at least as dangerous as everyone suspects.”  
“Let’s just get started on the limiter.”


	10. Chapter 10

Rangiku wasn’t the stay at home sort. As soon as Unohana would let her, she was up and around, showing off little Toshiro to everyone she could think of. It helped that the winter cold did not seem to bother him at all. In fact, by the time he was six weeks old he was constantly wiggling his way out of the blankets she wrapped him in and turning his face into the winter winds.  
The first time he laughed a gust of wind carried snow into the house and he reached up trying to catch the sparkling flakes in his fat hands.  
Rangiku thought it was adorable, but behind his smile Gin was still worried. Several captains had mentioned to him the same thing he noticed, no one had ever seen a child whose reiatsu interacted with the world so naturally and easily. Aizen was fascinated.  
Rangiku laughed and refused to worry. Toshiro’s father had been a prodigy. She was not surprised their son was unique.  
The first summer was rough. Toshiro had no tolerance for heat. In May he had been on the verge of crawling, but by mid-June he had completely stopped growing and did little more than lay listlessly on the floor.  
Unohana was concerned and Rangiku was outright terrified and within a month most of Seireitei had been enlisted in the effort to keep the baby cool. Someone brought an ice box back from the World of the Living, and others were constantly bringing back ice to restock it. Captain Isshin harassed Division Twelve for air conditioning to be installed in their home, but Kurotsuchi refused unless Rangiku would let him examine Toshiro to discover the source of his temperature sensitivity. So they only had the old fashioned icebox with the door open to try to cool the baby.  
Toshiro was the only infant in the Gotei in several years, and his mother frequently brought him to the different divisions, happily spending all of her free time visiting with old friends and making new ones. There was hardly a shinigami in the city who was not worried when their Shiro-chan fell ill.  
The ice box and daily trips to the pool got him through the summer, though he didn’t gain an inch or a pound for the entire four months. The only explanation Unohana could offer was that his highly reactive reiatsu was negatively affected by heat, just as it had seemed positively affected by cold. She guessed that it might have been the result of so much exposure to reiatsu before his birth and she didn’t doubt that he would always be sensitive to the weather.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Summer was nearly over before Gin returned to his old habits. Rangiku was laying on the tatami just inside the entry sprinkling Toshiro with water as he slept on the cool stone of the entry itself. With all the ice melted she couldn't think of anything else to do. She was so tired and frustrated and just plain miserable. The door had to be left open to allow the breeze to cool the house, but it let in millions of mosquitos too. She swatted them away from the baby constantly but felt like she herself was being eaten alive.  
Gin had brought a bento dinner from his division kitchens as usual, but he didn’t even step out of his sandals. He watched her for a moment before he said, “I’m going out.”  
“No you’re not,” Rangiku exclaimed as loudly as she dared with the baby asleep, and sat up abruptly.  
“I’ve got to go,” he said, turning to the door.  
“Why?” she hissed. “It’s not your night for the night watch. Aizen wouldn’t ask you to come in with Shiro so sick, not unless he had to. Did something happen?”  
“I’ll be back.” And with that he vanished.  
Rangiku glared at the open doorway. That was so absolutely unfair. He wasn’t going to work. He was just going out because he felt like it. He was going to have fun, and she was stuck here, bored out of her skull, watching a sleeping baby.  
She looked down at Shiro. He blinked enormous blue eyes back at her. Great, a wide awake baby.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Half an hour later she was standing in the doorway of the most popular summer sakeya in Seireitei, popular because the owner had some sort of deal going with R&D and it had air conditioning. Shiro was peeking out of the sling she had strapped across her chest and grinning at the cool air that was blowing down on his face.  
A large man working the door tried to step in her way. “Ma’am, this isn’t really an appropriate place for--”  
“Shut up,” she suggested, turning furious eyes on him.  
He did. The cowed man bowed and stepped back.  
She was looking over the crowd. She doubted her husband was here. While he found people entertaining, he wasn’t exactly social, so she was looking for someone else whose party she could crash. She spotted the Squad Eleven boys quickly and headed over to join them.  
More than one half-drunk shinigami noticed her with Shiro as she crossed the room, but if anyone else objected to her bringing a baby into a sakeya they didn’t say so. Most of them knew her by sight anyway. She’d spent the last nine months befriending at least half of the Gotei. As she told Gin, when he noticed people from other divisions started greeting her in the street, what else was she supposed to do with all her free time?  
The boys from Eleven greeted her enthusiastically. Many of them raised their glasses to her and shouted out greetings. “Hey, Rangiku-chan!” “Long time, no see!” “There’s Shiro-chan, never too early to start drinking!” “Good to see you!”  
Rangiku grinned and stepped out of her sandals to climb up onto the raised tatami. She squeezed between the drunken men and made her way over to Ikkaku and Yumichika. As the senior officers, the others let them have one end of the low table and crowded along the other two sides--which was perfect because that left space for her.  
Rangiku dropped to her knees between the two men and shouted at the nearest waiter, “We’re gonna need another round!”  
Everyone cheered and shouted their agreement. There were times she loved Squad Eleven.  
“Where’s fox-face?” Ikkaku asked. Then he grinned as a new thought struck him. “Did you leave him?”  
“Of course she didn’t,” Yumichika answered. “She’s not that bright.”  
“Excuse me?” Rangiku demanded, but Yumichika handed her a drink so she couldn't really get mad.  
“You are very beautiful, Rangiku-chan, and you put a real effort into your appearance, and I appreciate that; so few people do try. But you have two very serious flaws, you hardly ever bother to think and you’re in love with Ichimaru Gin. The first I can forgive, but the second...” Yumichika trailed off dramatically.  
“But didn’t we make the most beautiful baby?” Rangiku argued, pulling Shiro out of the sling and sitting him on the table.   
He looked around curiously for a moment, blinking at all the staring eyes. He was very pretty with his feathery white hair and pale, clear skin, and the most serious, round, aqua eyes the same color as the silk jinbei he wore--one of many beautiful items Rangiku had found in a box of hand-me-downs Captain Ukitake had passed on to her from a sister who’d heard about the baby and wanted to help.  
Shiro took in his surroundings carefully, seeming to consider each and every member of his audience. Sometimes Rangiku thought he acted like a tiny old man, looking on everyone with disapproval, but then, like every other baby ever, he reached for the nearest glass.  
Rangiku grabbed it out of his reach. “Nope. That’s mine,” she told him and drank it all just to be safe.  
He frowned back at her and said, “Mine!” reaching for the stolen cup.  
“You are amazingly beautiful for something so small and fat,” Yumichika told him, leaning in to meet the baby’s eyes.  
“Mine!” Shiro declared again, and lunged for the feather above Yumichika’s eye.  
Yumichika dodged back in terror, and Shiro screamed in triumph; the feather was in his hand.  
Yumichika raised his hand to cover his eye. “You little monster! You really are Ichimaru’s offspring!”  
Shiro waved the feather in the air. “Pretty!” he declared.  
Ikkaku and Rangiku burst out laughing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“No, no,” Rangiku mumbled, drunkenly. “It’s this way.” She waved one raised finger toward the street they had just come down.  
She was talking in Ikkaku’s ear as her chin rested on his shoulder while he carried her on his back.  
He glanced back at Yumichika, who was carrying a sleeping Shiro in Rangiku’s sling. The sight had been hilarious half an hour ago. Now it was getting kind of annoying, especially with the way Yumichika kept humming to the kid.   
“How the fuck don’t we know where she lives?” Ikkaku demanded.  
“Why would we?” Yumichika asked. “We’re not going to be making social calls.”  
“Just keep going this way,” Rangiku suggested, pointing in a completely different direction. “It’s just--oh, never mind.”  
Gin appeared directly in front of them, looking very different from how either of the Squad Eleven officers had ever seen before. His eyes were wide and panicked, and Shinso was in his hand. He managed to hide his fear almost immediately and sheathed his zanpakuto instantly.  
“Oh, look at you, Ran!” he said, plastering a grin on his face as he stepped forward. “Already getting falling down drunk in front of our son? Poor thing, what’s he going to have to look forward to? He can hardly become disappointed in his parents as he grows up if he already knows all our faults.”  
Rangiku smiled as Ikkaku lowered her to the ground. “Don’t nobody know all your faults,” she answered, stumbling forward.  
Gin caught her and pulled her up against his chest. “Careful,” he said.  
She looked up at him for a moment. “I’m mad at you,” she declared, finally. “You walked out on us.”  
“That wasn’t walking out on you; that was running an errand.”  
She frowned. “Felt like it.”  
“That’s only because you’ve never been walked out on; the real thing feels a lot worse.”  
She raised her hand to his cheek, and her eyes searched his face. “I’m sorry,” she said finally.  
“You will be in the morning,” he assured her.  
“I love you,” she said, and pulled his head down, meeting his lips for a long, deep kiss.  
“Oi!” Ikkaku said loudly. “We’re still here!”  
Rangiku turned slowly, holding onto Gin with one arm around his neck. “Why?”  
“Your kid!” Ikkaku said, pointing at Yumichika, who was gently swaying and humming softly to the baby.   
Rangiku blinked at Yumichika. “Oh, right.” She started toward them and immediately lost her footing.  
“How about I carry the breakable baby?” Gin suggested, catching her around the waist.  
She nodded. “Good idea.”  
Yumichika sighed and unstrapped the sling. “He’s been sleeping really well. He loved the air conditioning. That’s why Rangiku-san brought him to Morimoto’s. She was thinking about him. She didn’t just go out to get drunk.”  
“I know,” Gin answered, taking Shiro from his arms. “Thanks for looking out for both of them.”  
He tightened his grip on his family and vanished, shunpoing home in an instant.  
“We didn’t do it for you,” Yumichika said to the empty street.


	11. Chapter 11

Rangiku sat out on the porch watching Toshiro try to keep up with the neighborhood children. The boy was wearing an absurdly expensive red embroidered jimbei, yet another hand-me-down, that he’d already gotten muddy and hadn’t suited him in the first place. Rangiku just couldn’t help herself. She always dressed him in the nicest clothes she could find and as most of his things were hand-me-downs from the wealthiest families in the Gotei, she had far too many beautiful things to choose from, and the toddler, so determined to keep up with all the other children, was destroying them all.  
He was barely walking, but he was sure he should be a part of the children’s game. Somehow, despite being less than half their size, he knew he was a kid too. Whenever he got too far from her one of the children would come lead him back. They didn’t seem to mind, and it was working better than trying to fold laundry while he unfolded it had.  
“He’s a determined little thing,” a voice said, and Rangiku raised her head. Rumiko-ba-chan had come down the road to say hello.  
Rangiku smiled and scooted over to make a space for her on the step.  
“A lot more so than poor Zu-zu,” Rumiko added, shaking her head.  
“What’s wrong with Zu-zu?” Rangiku asked, looking around but not seeing the blond boy among the children on the street.  
“You know his father passed last spring. It was a great shock. He didn’t know his father very well since he’s been living with me since his granddaughter died, but still, it’s hard to lose your father, I know. But it's been half a year and I can’t seem to get him to move forward. He’ll do what he’s told, but he just mopes around the rest of the day. He doesn’t come out and play with the other children anymore. All he does is sit and read. It's like he's lost his zest for life. I'm worried about him.”  
Rangiku thought about that as she watched one of the children try to teach Shiro to spin a top. “Poor Zu-zu,” she said softly. “He probably thinks too much, like Gin—things never bother me long ‘cause I don’t really think about them, but I don’t know if that’s better. People who think a lot, they learn all sorts of things, and they take care of the rest of us dummies by getting stronger and dealing with all the problems we never even noticed. We’ve just got to remember to take care of them back by dragging them out to have some fun sometimes.”  
“He does tend to think too much, poor boy,” the old woman sighed. “I just don’t want him to miss out. Life seems terribly long till you’re at this end of it. Then you find yourself thinking of all the missed chances, and you want to tell all the young people not to make your mistakes.”  
Rangiku smiled as she watched Shiro manage to set the top spinning if only for a second. “I don’t know,” she said softly. “Maybe the mistakes are the best parts.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Gin and Toshiro stared across the room at each other as Rangiku collected her things and gave a last few instructions. “--and don't you dare drop him off at your division like you did last time,” she commanded. “This is time for the two of you to spend together, I mean it, Gin! You can spend a day with your son every once in a while. It won't kill you.”  
She leaned over and kissed Toshiro on the forehead. The boy immediately threw his arms around her neck. “Me too!” he declared loudly.  
“Not this time,” Rangiku answered, removing him with some effort. “You stay with Daddy. You’re gonna have lots of fun.”  
She thrust the small boy into his father’s arms and stepped down into her sandals. “Daddy will play with you. Be good. I love you both. Bye bye!”  
Shiro stared at the shut door with an air of despair. Mommy had abandoned him again. Life was clearly unfair.  
“Alright,” Gin said, squatting down and setting the boy in front of him. “New game: find Daddy and I’ll take it off.” He set his hand on Toshiro’s forehead. “Bakudo Two, Kage.” A binding went around the boy’s head, blinding him instantly.  
“Off!” Toshiro screamed, pulling at the binding with all his strength. “Off! Off! Off!”  
Gin stood and stepped back as his son continued to panic. “Find me if you want it off,” he said calmly, stepping even further away.  
Toshiro calmed down quickly. He didn’t have much determination for crying. Small as he was he preferred action, and if his father had been within reach he would have hit him as hard as he could, but as he stumbled around he couldn’t find Gin anywhere.  
At first the blackness was terrifying, but as he calmed he realized it wasn’t quite entirely black. The world of reishi was slowly becoming visible to his desperate eyes. He could make no sense of the shapes and forms around him, but just knowing he wasn’t all alone in the darkness allowed him to calm down enough to be curious.  
“Find me, and I’ll take it off,” Gin repeated, moving to one corner of the room.  
Toshiro’s head swung in the direction of his father’s voice, and he stumbled in the direction of the sound.  
Gin forced his reiatsu to grow as strong as he dared. He couldn’t have the neighbors panicking, but Toshiro would see him. He was absolutely determined the boy would learn to see him today.  
He stepped to one side silently. Then he waved.  
Toshiro’s head snapped in his direction.  
He grinned and waved again.  
The boy took one step forward, then another. He reached out his pudgy little hands and took another step forward.  
Gin reached down and released the bakudo as Toshiro caught hold of his hakama.  
“That’s not so hard, is it?” Gin said, lifting the boy and handing him a cookie he’d stored in his shihakusho.  
Toshiro gave him a dirty look before he took a bite of the cookie.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro made a very pretty picture, in a pale blue snowflake patterned kimono, standing in the snow. He turned slowly as the snowflakes danced around him, caught in an impossible current. He laughed happily, completely unaware of the scrutiny of the adults watching. His lashes and hair sparkled with ice crystals, but he never shivered in the cold.  
“Fascinating,” Aizen said softly. “He clearly has no idea he’s doing it. I’ve never seen anything like it, controlling nature without use of specific kido or a zanpakuto.”  
Gin smiled. “Shiro is unique.”  
Aizen’s eyes turned to Gin. The fox-faced smile was impossible to read, even for him, but he’d known his lieutenant since his childhood. His thoughts were possible to guess. “You are proud of him,” Aizen said, smiling.  
“I suppose so,” Gin agreed. “It’s natural, isn’t it? To be proud of your creation? I suppose I should give Ran-chan a bit of the credit, but I’m afraid he takes almost entirely after me.”  
“Even in manner; he keeps his own council,” Aizen answered. “I’m told that’s unusual in one so young.”  
“Yeah,” Gin agreed. “Never gonna know what he’s up to. Gonna have to keep a close eye on him when he gets older.”  
“Not unlike his father,” Aizen said. Then he stood and crossed the snow to the toddler.  
He knelt beside the boy, smiling kindly. “It’s very pretty snow, isn’t it, Shiro-chan.”  
Toshiro held out a handful of unmelting snowflakes, larger than all the others, so large their lacy forms were clearly visible. “Pretty!” he declared, grinning at the captain.


	12. Chapter 12

“Gin! Gin! Gin!” Rangiku nearly shouted, rushing into the Fifth Division main office. Her long-suffering son pouted from his perch strapped to her back. The boy thought he should be allowed to walk, but his mother was usually in too much of a hurry to do less than shunpo, and he had the unfortunate fate of being very small and light for his age because each and every summer he stopped growing and lost weight. Even though other children his age had mostly outgrown being carried around in a sling, he was probably going to have to put up with it for a few more years.  
Captain Aizen raised an eyebrow as his lieutenant’s wife burst into his office. She could not be convinced to consider the idea that he and Gin could have work to do, and her constant interruptions were unhelpful. He hated to imagine what she was like in her own division, but then the Tenth never had been particularly disciplined.  
He sighed and gestured to the corner where Gin was sorting through files, finally doing work he’d already put off for weeks.  
“Gin, guess what!” Rangiku exclaimed, turning abruptly to her husband.  
“I’ve already heard Shiba’s girlfriend’s transferred,” Gin told her without bothering to raise his head from his work.  
“Of course you did. I told you she was going to last month. This is much better—this is the biggest news in Seireitei in centuries!”  
“Then how is it you heard before me?” Gin asked.  
“I’ll give you a hint: my captain told me,” she said grinning hugely. “And he heard last night, at a gathering of the four houses.”  
Gin turned around. “Since when do you care about anything the nobility is doing?” he asked, suddenly curious.  
“Kuchiki Byakuya is getting married!” Rangiku exclaimed, almost jumping up and down with excitement.  
Gin blinked, trying to make that news seem important. “He’s the head of their house. Doesn’t the family usually encourage them to marry young?”  
“But he’s marrying against his family’s wishes!” Rangiku exclaimed. “He’s marrying a girl he met in Rukongai! He saved her from a hollow and it was love at first sight! Kuchiki Byakuya is marrying a peasant!”  
“You heard this from Captain Isshin?” Aizen said suddenly.  
Rangiku spun around and grinned at the captain. “Isn’t it wonderful! Who could have imagined Kuchiki Byakuya would have a heart?”  
Aizen smiled. “It does give one a feeling of hope. If even a man so proud as Kuchiki can be touched by love, maybe there is hope for the world yet.”  
“Right!” she agreed, before spinning back to Gin. “You have got to get us invited to the wedding, Gin! You’ve got to!”  
“Ran, you know—“  
“I’ve got to go tell Miya-chan before Kaien does. Don’t forget, Gin! We have to go!” And with that she rushed out of the room. Toshiro waved bye bye helplessly as he was carried off again.  
Gin sighed and turned to his captain. “I don’t suppose you could help me?”  
Aizen’s smile grew. “I have no idea what you did, but Kuchiki despises you. There is no way he would invite you to his wedding even if I were to ask, which I am not going to do. You are on your own this time.”  
“But it isn’t possible!” Gin protested.  
“And that is what is going to make this so amusing,” Aizen agreed. “I’ve no doubt you will think of something, and I always find your little schemes enlightening.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku giggled as she slid open the front door and stumbled into her home. “I’m home!” she announced loudly. Then she remembered it was after Shiro’s bedtime and covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry,” she whispered to the dark room, before repeating, “I’m home,” in a whisper.  
Then she frowned. Why hadn’t Gin lit a lamp? The whole house was completely dark. Her eyes scanned the entry and front room. Everything looked completely normal except— “Why are you hiding under the table in the dark?” she demanded loudly of her son.  
Toshiro, who’d been doing his best to gesture at her to be quiet rolled his eyes.  
Gin appeared in the doorway at that moment, a band of black over his eyes. “So you are in here!” he said, grinning.  
“It doesn’t count!” Toshiro protested as he climbed out from under the table. “Mommy told you! That’s cheating.”  
Gin raised a hand to his head and canceled the kido. “Always cheat if you can manage it, Shiro-chan,” he answered. “Just don’t get caught. That’s worse than losing.”  
“What are you doing? Playing hide’n’seek in the dark? Why are you using a kido blindfold, and can I play?” Rangiku said very quickly.  
“It’s not a game,” Shiro protested.  
“Yes, it is,” Gin immediately contradicted. “But it’s boys only so you’re out of luck, Ran-chan.”  
“That’s not fair!” Rangiku protested. “I can do anything you can!” She tripped at that moment, trying to step out of her sandals, so she wasn’t particularly convincing.  
“Why can’t—“ Toshiro started to join her protest but caught a look from his father that shut him up immediately. “I’m still the winner,” he said stubbornly.  
“Tell your mommy good night and get to bed,” Gin told him.  
Toshiro glared at his father for a second, but realized he might have a chance with his mother and ran straight to Rangiku, throwing his arms around her legs.  
“I missed you, Mommy!” he declared.  
Rangiku picked him up and hugged him tightly. “Mommy had to go, sweetie,” she told him. “It was a party for Mommy’s friend, Auntie Miyako. Didn’t you have fun playing games with Daddy?”  
“No!” Toshiro protested, “I want Mommy all the time.”  
“Oh, sweetie, don’t say that!” Rangiku protested, glancing over at Gin to see if his feelings were hurt, but he wasn’t paying any attention at all.  
He was refilling the lamp with oil with his back to them both. As usual, if anything bothered him, he wouldn’t let it show.  
“I’m sure you and Daddy had lots and lots of fun together, didn’t you, Gin?”  
The light came on, and Gin stepped back up onto the tatami, carrying the lamp and a bowl of dried persimmons. “Not really,” he answered, sitting down at the low table and reaching for a book. “Shiro-chan spent most of the evening whining.”  
“No, I didn’t!!” Toshiro protested. “I was good, but Daddy made me work the whole time!”  
“Work? What kind of work?” Rangiku asked.  
“It’s a game, Shiro-chan. It’s called hide’n’seek. You play it all the time. You just wanted Mommy,” Gin said. Then his eyes went to Rangiku. “Did you have fun celebrating Miyako’s promotion?”  
“Oh, it was so much fun!” Rangiku gushed. “You should have come! Everyone was there! Except Captain Ukitake--he was sick again--Miya-chan says he coughs up blood. I think I would be terrified if I saw someone cough up blood. I’d have them at Division Four before they had a chance to protest. It seems terribly serious!”  
She dropped to her knees beside Gin and reached for a dried persimmon. “What do you think is wrong with Captain Ukitake? No one ever says. Kaien told Miya-chan not to ask.  
“And you should see them together! They’re so cute! Now they’re working together, and they’re so totally in sync!” She covered Toshiro’s ears and lowered her voice to a whisper. “I’m sure they’re sleeping together!”  
Toshiro scowled and tugged at his mother’s hands.  
“I very much doubt Shiro-chan has any idea what you’re talking about, Ran,” Gin said. “Speaking of which, why don’t you put him to bed already?”  
“That’s your job,” she answered, removing her hands from his ears so she could pass him to Gin. “You should have done it two hours ago. It’s all your fault I have to take my bath alone.”  
Father and son glared at each other.

It was half an hour later when Gin appeared in the doorway of the little bathroom. Steam rose from the tub in thick clouds as Rangiku soaked up to her shoulders. Her head leaned back against the side, and her eyes were shut. Her hair hung in red coils over the side, dripping onto the damp tile floor.  
Gin took one step into the room.  
“I told you I was bathing alone,” Rangiku said, without bothering to open her eyes.  
“I thought you’d fallen asleep,” Gin answered. “Was just going to wake you up.”  
“What are you making Shiro-chan do?” she asked, suddenly lifting her head and opening her eyes.  
“It’s just a game,” Gin answered.  
“He doesn’t seem to think so,” Rangiku answered. “And I don’t see why you’d be playing hide’n’seek blindfolded, unless you’re using reiatsu--Toshiro can see reiatsu?”  
“A little,” Gin admitted.  
“And you’re teaching him to do it better? Don’t you think he’s a little young to start training?”  
“It’s not training,” Gin said. “I was bored. I wanted to see what he could do. That’s all.”  
Rangiku moved to the side of the tub and folded her arms over the edge. “Really?”  
Gin tilted his head to one side and smiled at her. “Are you sure you want to take that bath alone?”  
“Well I certainly don’t need a lying husband in here,” Rangiku answered, sitting back and folding her arms across her chest.  
“You sure?” he asked again. “It’s the only kind you’ve got.”  
Rangiku rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on then,” she said, and she moved over to make some space for him in the deep tub.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“Shiba,” Gin called after the lieutenant of the Thirteenth as they left the lieutenants meeting.  
Kaien turned and did his best not to frown at Gin. Lieutenant Ichimaru was not one of his favorite people, and if it weren’t for the fact that Ichimaru was married to one of Miyako’s very best friends he wouldn’t even bother to be polite.   
“Do you need something, Lieutenant Ichimaru?” he asked stiffly.  
“Yes, well, no, well, not me, but Rangiku which makes it my problem. Remember that, Shiba, after you marry them all of their problems become yours whether you want them or not.”  
“I see,” Kaien answered, not sure if he could sound any more like he didn’t care what Gin thought about anything.  
Gin’s smile only grew. “The problem is my Rangiku has set her heart on something I cannot possibly get for her, but she refuses to believe it is impossible no matter how many reasons I give her. She’s quite sure I can manage it and has every intention of making me pay if I fail.”  
Kaien was beginning to be curious. “And somehow you think I can make it possible?”  
“I know you can. It is only a question of whether you are willing to. If I were you I would refuse. It’s a bit risky, and I can’t imagine the possibility of getting on Kuchiki’s bad side would be worth it. As he already hates me it can’t really get much worse for me. But I’ve no doubt he could make your life much more unpleasant if he took a notion to.”  
“What is it you want?” Kaien demanded, wondering what insanity Gin could possibly have in mind.  
“Rangiku wants to go to Kuchiki’s wedding. I thought we might use your invitation as I heard that you’re not going.”  
Kaien stared at Gin in horror. “You want to crash Captain Kuchiki’s wedding, and you want me to help you?”  
“You and Miyako aren’t known to the staff of his estate. Rangiku and I dress up and go with Isshin. With your invitation there won’t be any reason for anyone to question us.”  
“Only half the other guests at the wedding will know exactly who you are and that Kuchiki would rather drink sake from Rukongai than let you anywhere near his home.”  
“But they won’t make a fuss. No one would dare risk upsetting Kuchiki’s wedding.”  
“No one but you,” Kaien corrected.  
“Only because Rangiku is insisting. I haven’t got the slightest idea why, but it’s important to her to attend. I am simply doing my best to give her what she wants.”  
“You know there is a fair chance that if Kuchiki actually sees you there he will kill you. Maybe not at the wedding, but sometime down the line, when there are no wives around to get upset about it.”  
“I know,” Gin agreed, and for a moment the smile faded. “These are the sacrifices I’m told a husband must make if he doesn't want to spend the next century sleeping alone.”  
Kaien smiled, suddenly realizing how desperate Gin was. “What are you offering?”  
“Anything you want,” Gin said, his smile returning. “I'm pretty good at procuring just about anything you can imagine. If there’s any information you’d like or I can rearrange mission schedules for the divisions if you’d like more time in the World of the Living or more time at home. I could have your fourth seats reassigned if they are annoying you as much as they would me, or--”  
“Basically,” Kaien interrupted. “You can do anything except get invited to Kuchiki’s wedding.”  
“It’s the nobility. They’re prejudiced against me. I'm just a poor nobody from Rukongai and--”  
“Alright, Ichimaru, it’s a deal. I’m going to let you take my place at the wedding and in exchange I will take one favor.”  
“A favor?”  
“You’ll owe me. I have a feeling you’re the sort of man it is very useful to have in one’s debt. You’re risking getting me into trouble not only with a captain but also with my family and my house. You could conceivably cause a rift between the Shiba and Kuchiki families. You owe me, and this is not a small debt. Someday I will collect.”  
Gin sighed. “It's a deal.”


	13. Chapter 13

Toshiro was sitting in the corner of the room all ready for bed in a brilliant orange sleeping kimono that he loved but even Rangiku couldn’t argue actually suited him. His hair was damp from his bath and neatly combed down instead of its usual gravity defying fluff. He held a large, pale blue stuffed elephant in his arms, and glared at his parents as they prepared for the evening. As was usually the case, his mother was laughing a great deal, and his father’s smile seemed more real than usual.  
Toshiro didn’t like it at all. They looked very strange with their hair dyed black, especially his father, whose pale skin looked almost hollow-like in contrast. His mother had added enough makeup that the black almost looked natural, but she didn’t look like herself, and Toshiro didn’t like that. It was even worse when she put on the borrowed kimonos. They were stiff and formal silk, beautiful but lifeless, and Rangiku was forced to take tiny steps and sit very properly. It was like the clothes had changed her into a completely different person, a gentle, delicate young lady, who would never laugh and play and would certainly never steal sweet beans from the division kitchens to eat up on the roof with him as an afternoon snack.  
But then his father held up a mirror to show her her reflection, and Rangiku burst out laughing. Toshiro almost smiled. His mother was still there, hiding under all that finery.  
Rangiku gasped for breath. Her obi was so tight she could barely breathe. “I look like a princess! Don’t I?” She turned to her son. “Doesn’t Mommy look pretty, Shiro-chan?”  
He glared back at her. “No,” he said stubbornly. “Ugly Mommy.”  
“Oh!” Rangiku’s expression fell. “Is it really that bad?”  
Gin pulled her back into her arms and pressed his lips to her neck. “That’s what you get for asking the opinion of a baby, Ohime-sama.”  
Toshiro’s expression darkened further. In his opinion, his father took up far too much of his mother’s time and attention. He really couldn’t see why she put up with his father at all. He wasn’t fun. He never played games, and even when he said they were playing a game he was always trying to get Toshiro to do difficult things with reiatsu, like making it so nobody could sense him when he was hiding. Yep, his father might smile all the time, but Toshiro wasn’t fooled. He knew his father was the serious one, the one he had to work hard for and remember all the rules for, and must never, ever disappoint.  
He often wished his mother would make his father go away. After all, everyone, even he, did what she told them to, but for some reason she seemed to like his father and want him around. She even laughed and smiled when his father made her practice kido with him, even when her shikai wouldn’t work right and she had to try again and again. She never got upset no matter how much he pushed her, which was even stranger considering she had no problem telling off Captain Isshin when he complained she was being lazy.  
It really wasn’t fair that his father got a pass on everything.  
There was a knock on the door and Aunt Miyako and Uncle Kaien came in. They laughed almost as much as his mother did when they saw his parents, and Aunt Miyako came and sat down next to him and asked him what he thought of their transformations.  
“He called me ugly, the little monster,” Rangiku said, but she smiled at him, so he knew she didn’t mean it.  
“It probably scares him,” Miyako said. “You don’t look right to him. He’s not sure if you’re still you.”  
She picked the boy up and brought him over to Rangiku. “See sweetie, she’s still your Mommy,” she told him.  
Rangiku ran her hand over the boy’s head. “It’s alright, Shiro-chan. I’m still Mommy.”  
“I know,” the boy answered, scowling at her.  
“Of course he does,” Gin agreed, pulling a coat over the short-bladed zanpakuto that he had strapped to his back for the evening. “He’s a bright boy. He just doesn’t like you changing how you look, makes him worry you might change how you act too. He’s got the perfect mama. He doesn’t want her spoiled by fancy clothes and aristocratic airs.”  
“It’s only for tonight, Shiro-chan,” Rangiku promised, kissing his forehead. “I promise to be back to normal first thing tomorrow.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Captain Isshin almost couldn’t stop laughing. Every time a servant called Gin ‘Shiba-dono’ he choked on his sake. He couldn’t believe they were so easily tricked. He could have named a dozen things wrong with Gin and Rangiku in the first five minutes of seeing them, any one of which proved they were not in any way, shape, or form nobility.  
Rangiku had been a fairly poor lady from the beginning, but after a couple glasses of sake and locating Captain Kyoraku, she was back to her old, drunken habits. The tight kimono could not restrain her. She and Kyoraku leaned on each other, telling absurd stories loudly as they drank, while Gin and Captain Ukitake shared half-amused, half-annoyed glances at the pair.  
When Shiba Kukaku joined the table, Gin gave up and left to get a breath of non-alcohol-filled air. He could not figure out why Rangiku had insisted on coming to the wedding if all she intended to do was get falling-down drunk; she could do that at the local sakeya for a hundredth the price--if he had actually bought their clothing and not ‘borrowed’ it--and without risking the well-known wrath of Kuchiki Byakuya.  
“Gin-kun!” He heard Ukitake’s voice call him from inside the hall.  
Gin spun around and spotted the danger immediately. His insane, drunk wife was kneeling down next to the bride herself.  
Gin shunpoed right behind her, thinking only to grab Rangiku and run, but Rangiku had already taken the bride’s hand and was speaking to her in a surprisingly serious voice.  
“I know there are some people who are going to say all sorts of mean things about you because they are jealous when they see someone who has been given everything, but I know that’s not why you are here. You don’t care about his money or his titles or even his beautiful face. I can see in your eyes how much you love him. People won’t believe it. They’ll say he’s cold and heartless, and they won’t believe you could love him or that he could love you, but we know, you and me, that those who hide their hearts best, they also love deepest. They hide their hearts away, so they cannot be hurt, but we can see through them, and we know that they deserve all the love we can possibly give them.”  
Gin couldn’t do anything but stare at his wife. She had planned this. She had intended to meet Byakuya’s bride from the very beginning. He could not believe she had actually managed to play him. He was almost proud of her—if it weren’t for the fact that she might have just killed them both.  
His eyes went to Kuchiki. The man was completely still, watching Hisana with an intensity that was very near terrifying. The girl’s reaction to Rangiku was going to decide their fate.  
She smiled and she set her free hand on Rangiku’s. “Thank you,” she said softly.  
“I’m sorry I crashed your wedding, but I didn’t think I’d have any other chance to meet you, and I think we ought to be friends. We have so much in common. We’re even from the same part of Rukongai.”  
“Really?” Hisana said. “Then maybe you can help me to get used to living here.”  
“Maybe,” Rangiku laughed. “I’m just a shinigami. I don’t know much of anything about this world, but I’ll be happy to help. Just send me a note if you’d like me to come see you; your husband knows how to get a hold of me.”  
Then Rangiku looked straight at Byakuya and bowed low. “Congratulations, Kuchiki-sama, on your marriage. I wish you many long years of happiness.”  
Byakuya nodded his head, acknowledging her words. Then his eyes rose to Gin, and he said, “I hope we are not going to be subjected to this change of appearance long term, Lieutenant? If this is your attempt to fit in I must say you have failed miserably.”  
“Scared my kid too, kept looking at me like I’d gone hollow on him. It’s too bad. I’d always thought I might look good if my hair was a bit more normal,” Gin said, smiling the entire time.  
“I doubt it is possible for you to look good,” Byakuya answered coolly. “But I’m sure we would all appreciate it if you would not join the competition with Zaraki and Kurotsuchi for most horror inducing shinigami.”  
Gin’s smile grew even wider. “I would never dream of it, sir.”  
Then he pulled Rangiku to her feet. “Come, Ran-chan, we’ve taken up enough of our generous host’s time.”  
Gin was relieved when she didn’t protest or even insist on returning to her drink. He wanted nothing more than to get out of there before his lovely drunk wife really managed to do something that got them both killed.  
“Did you plan that?” he asked her as they crossed the garden on the most direct path to the gate.  
“I had to meet her, and you know Kuchiki, he’s never going to let her out except under armed guard. He’s paranoid and controlling, and he’d never understand that she needs some friends like her, who came from nothing just like her and have to find a way to fit in here. I think I’ve done a pretty good job making a place for myself in Seireitei. People genuinely like me. Why shouldn’t I help her out?”  
“And that bit about unlovable men?”  
Rangiku stopped and turned to look Gin in the eye. “You are exactly like Kuchiki. You’re gifted and arrogant, and you tell yourself you don’t need anyone. You do everything you can to keep anyone from seeing the real you. You do it with that smile and teasing so, maybe, you really don’t think you’re like him. You may even tell yourself you’re friendly but you’re not. You don’t let anyone in, not me, not even your own son.”  
The smile faded from Gin’s face, and his head tilted to one side in that way he did when he was trying to understand something that puzzled him. “Are you unhappy with me, Ran?” he asked finally.  
“No, you idiot! I love you madly! Just ask anyone; they’ll tell you I’m absolutely out of my mind to love you. But I know you. I know the real you that’s hiding behind that stupid, silly grin. I just—sometimes I just wish you wouldn’t make it so hard.”  
Gin looked at her helplessly. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked so lost. “I’m sorry?” he offered after a moment or two.  
Rangiku sighed. She took a step closer to him and raised her hand to his cheek. “I love you, Ichimaru Gin. I always have and I always will. I love you absolutely and unconditionally. I know you’re afraid that if you tell me some of the things you’ve done I won’t, but you’re wrong. I know you always do everything for a reason, and I trust your reasons—that’s me sharing with you, Gin, me being honest and straightforward, and completely vulnerable. You could crush me if you wanted to. You could completely destroy me. I’ve given you that power, just by loving you and telling you I love you I’ve given you the power to hurt me.”  
“Rangiku,” Gin breathed.  
“I know,” Rangiku said, and she smiled. “You don’t have to say it.”  
Her hand dropped to his, and she gave it a tug. “Let’s go home.”


	14. Chapter 14

Toshiro walked beside Gin, studying the crowd as they wove through the busy streets of Seireitei from the Fifth Division to their home. He had spent the afternoon making ice sculptures with Captain Aizen while his father worked on overdue paperwork. It was fairly typical of his time at the Fifth where his father was always finding someone who didn’t appear to be busy to watch him. At least Captain Aizen always found him something fun to do.  
But now he was back with his father, and he’d been given the seemingly impossible assignment of counting all the people who had more reiatsu than he did. It wasn’t a fair assignment. It was always harder to see reiatsu when he couldn’t close his eyes, and not being at home made it even harder. Gin had never told Toshiro most of his reiatsu was blocked the moment he stepped outside the front door, but Toshiro couldn’t help noticing that lots of things seemed a lot harder when he was away from home.  
At least it was snowing. Captain Aizen had told him he had a very special connection to the cold and snow and ice. He said it was an extraordinary gift, completely unique in Soul Society, and Toshiro should always try to use it because it was a special power, just for him. And today he was finding it to be the case. In this world of reishi everything reacted to everything else, more or less, but because Toshiro was so sensitive to the movement of the falling snow, he could sense how it danced just a little differently in the presence of reiatsu, and the stronger the reiatsu the more it was affected.  
So he counted the ones who affected the snow more than he did. There weren’t many, and there was only one who sent the falling snow flying like his father did, Captain Tosen, who nodded in acknowledgement of Gin’s call of “Good evening,” but said nothing in return. He was one of a very few men whose disliking of Gin, Toshiro noticed, seemed to extend to the rest of the family as well.  
In the entire hour they walked across Seireitei, he had only counted seventeen men and two women who seemed stronger than himself, and only the captain had been equal to his father. Lieutenant Omaeda of the Second hadn’t been close, and surprisingly, neither had Sasakebi of the First. It was the first time Toshiro had ever been aware of just how rare strength like theirs was.  
It was the first time he’d ever felt proud of his father. Gin might be distant and impossible to please, but he was strong, as strong as a captain, and that meant he was stronger than almost every other person in all of Seireitei. It was quite a thought. Maybe his father really would be a captain someday, and maybe, “Dad, do you think I could be a captain when I grow up?” he asked, as they turned onto their own familiar street.  
Gin looked down at the boy with his huge, hope-filled eyes, so young and innocent. Rangiku’s eyes had always been like that, despite all that she’d suffered before he’d found her, her eyes had always had that light. It was good that the boy had inherited at least some of her optimism.   
“I’m sure you will, Shiro-chan, if you live long enough,” Gin answered, with a pleasant grin. It was too bad that optimism had to be crushed.  
Toshiro froze. Fear replaced the hope in his eyes. He didn’t understand. Was something going to happen to him? He remembered abruptly that the reason he’d spent the day with his father was because several new members had been killed in the Tenth. Someone had made a mistake, and there’d been a stronger hollow than anyone had expected, and they’d all died.   
His mother had cried and cried. She said they had been too young. She said someone should have been watching out for them; they were practically children. His father had just sat there, letting his mother cry. He didn’t argue, and he didn’t try to make her feel better. It had been a miserable night, and today she had gone to their funeral, and she wouldn’t be back till late.  
“I’m not gonna die,” Toshiro said suddenly.  
“Glad to hear it,” Gin answered as he slid open the door and stepped into the dark entry.  
“I’m not,” Toshiro repeated, following his father inside. “I’m gonna be strong, and I’m gonna beat all the hollows.”  
“That’s nice,” Gin answered, lighting a pair of lamps and stepping up onto the tatami. He seemed to have dismissed the entire subject as he sat down at the cluttered table and set the lamps on two different stacks of books. “How many did you count?”  
“Nineteen--two women and seventeen men. That’s all.”  
“Nope, you missed Rumiko-ba-chan across the street; she came out as we were going in, so that’s three women. Only twelve men though; the other five might have been as strong as you, but I doubt it. You’re underestimating yourself.”  
“Then I’m strong enough to be a shinigami,” Toshiro said, enjoying his father’s confirmation of his strength.  
“You’re stronger than nearly all of them. You are a little boy who has a greater reiatsu than ninety percent of all shinigami. I don’t know if there’s ever been a child anything like you,” Gin said, smiling an especially cold smile. “But I know you are a treasure the Gotei would love to possess.”  
“What?” Toshiro said, trying to make sense of his father’s words. Wasn’t being strong good? Why was his father making it sound so dangerous, and calling him a treasure for the Gotei to possess, like a thing and not a person at all.  
“We’ve been hiding your reiatsu all your life,” Gin told him, still with that chilling smile and that cold tone. “If anyone ever discovers your real strength they will take you away from us. They will want to train you specially to make you even stronger. They will teach you more every single day and make you practice till you’re so tired all you want is your mommy, and they won’t ever give you back to her. They think she’d baby you and protect you and keep you from growing as fast as you can. So you won’t see her anymore. They won’t even let you see me, no more family for you. You have to learn to be strong all on your own. Just like those new shinigami who were killed yesterday, you will be expected to take care of yourself by yourself, and if you ever need help, you'll die.”  
Toshiro shook his head. “That’s not true. Mommy won’t let them take me away.”  
“Mommy has to follow the rules just like everyone else. If Mommy tried to stop them from taking you away to train they would kill her,” Gin said, finally dropping the smile. “They would kill her, and they would still take you. If they ever find out how strong you are they will take you away.”  
Toshiro stared at his father in absolute terror. His father had just described a nightmare worse than anything he had ever imagined. His little hands fisted at his sides, and his jaw clenched tight as he fought the urge to scream. Was that what was going to happen? He was going to be taken away and his mother was going to be killed and it was all because he was too strong? He had been so proud to see how much stronger he was than all the shinigami they had passed, but now he knew it was a terrible thing to be so special.  
“For now your reiatsu is hidden every time you leave our house, but you need to keep practicing hiding it. You need to be able to hide your reiatsu all the time. It is the most important thing for you to do, and you can never show off, not to anyone, not even Captain Isshin or Aizen, not anyone, no matter how nice they are. Someone else can always be watching. The only place in Seireitei you are safe to use reiatsu is in this house. It is the only way to stay safe. Do you understand?”  
Toshiro nodded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku was surprised, when she came home hours later, to find Toshiro curled up on her futon. When she tried to move him he whimpered and grabbed hold of her like he’d had a bad dream.  
“What’s wrong, baby?” she whispered, stroking his soft hair, but he only shook his head.   
“It’s been a long day,” Gin said, from where he still sat reading in the other room.  
Rangiku nodded. She should have been more careful. Poor Shiro-chan wasn’t old enough to hear about people getting killed. It was part of life as a shinigami, but he shouldn’t have to deal with it yet. “Don’t worry, Shiro-chan,” she whispered, laying down and letting him curl up next to her like he used to when he was just a baby. “We’re all safe here. You don’t have to be afraid of anything, ever, I promise. Your mommy and your daddy will always protect you.”  
That was when Toshiro realized his father, who was just as strong as a captain, had never once said he would stop them from taking him away.


	15. Chapter 15

Toshiro glared at his reflection. He looked, in his opinion, completely ridiculous. Maybe Captain Kyoraku could pull off pink and flowers, but Toshiro was pretty sure he just looked like a girl. “I look stupid,” he declared loudly.  
His parents didn’t even notice. His mother was trying to tie her own elaborate obi, and his father had gotten bored of waiting and was eating dried persimmons and reading.  
“I’m changing,” he said a little more loudly--still no response.  
He had the obi off and was untying the kimono strings when his mother finally noticed.  
“What are you doing?” Rangiku shrieked. “We’ve got to go! You can’t change!”  
“I look like a girl,” Toshiro declared, dumping the silk kimono unceremoniously onto the floor.  
“You do not! You looked adorable,” Rangiku argued, catching hold of his arm as he headed back for a new outfit. “Put it back on right now!”  
“No!” he said. It was bad enough being constantly dressed up like a doll, he was not leaving the house looking like a girl.  
“I said put it back on,” Rangiku commanded, grabbing the kimono off the floor and trying to force it onto his arms.  
“It makes me look like a girl!” Toshiro declared, trying to fight her off to no avail. As one last desperate attempt he appealed to Gin. “Dad! Tell her!”  
Gin actually looked up, more than a little surprised that Toshiro would ask him for help. He looked from the pink kimono to the panic-stricken boy and then to his frustrated wife. “Is there any reason he has to wear that one, Ran?” he asked. “Aren’t there at least three more formal kimonos in that box? Why don’t you let him wear the blue one; you both like blue--and he really did look like a very pretty little girl in that one.”  
Rangiku looked from Gin to Toshiro and back. “Fine,” she said, tossing the kimono back on the floor. “You dress him.” And with that she stormed out of the room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

It was a long walk out to the Shiba estate, and, dressed up in a fine, stiff silk kimono, Toshiro found it to be very uncomfortable as well. He really didn’t get what the whole point was anyway. They were going to the wedding of Shiba Kaien and Seya Miyako. When he’d asked what a wedding was his parents had individually explained it as “sort of a party where two people who love each other promise to stay together forever” and “a party where your mother can get drunk for free,” so all he was sure of was that a wedding was some sort of party that everyone, even his father, had to dress up for.  
As they walked along the unfamiliar streets of eastern Seireitei, Toshiro was doing his best to get the whole thing clearly explained, and as far as he could tell, his parents, especially his father, were trying to confuse him.  
“But what’s a wedding for?” Toshiro asked as he walked between his parents, holding onto each of their hands.  
“It’s a celebration of love,” Rangiku answered.  
“It’s an excuse to show off how much money your family has if you’re rich and a way to make your friends give you some if you’re poor,” Gin added.  
Rangiku shook her head. “That’s not true.”  
“Your friends have to give you money?” Toshiro asked. That sounded more interesting than his mother’s explanation of a ‘celebration of love’.  
“How do you think we were able to afford you?” Gin asked. “We didn’t even have furniture till after the wedding, just had to keep everything in piles around the house.”  
It seemed to Toshiro that that was still what they did, but whenever he pointed that sort of thing out his mother got ambitious about cleaning, and he got a lot more chores for a while. “Is that why you had a wedding?” he asked.  
“Pretty much,” Gin agreed.  
Once again, Rangiku protested. “That’s not true. When we got married we were pretty broke,” she told Toshiro, “But everyone wanted to celebrate with us and so they very generously gave us a wedding party. A wedding is a place to celebrate the joy of marriage with friends and family. You give money to the newlyweds because you want to help them begin their new life together. Knowing so many people loved us and wanted to help us was the best part of the wedding, not getting money.”  
“What’s marriage?” Toshiro asked, feeling like his mother was purposefully trying to make things confusing. First it was a wedding. Then it was a marriage. And a celebration of love and joy and a new life--clearly it was a big deal, some sort of grown up big deal, and he was beginning to wish he hadn’t asked in the first place.  
“You know what marriage is!” Rangiku told him. It's when people get married, like me and Daddy or Kuchiki-sama and Hisana-sama or--” she bit her lip, trying to think of another married couple Toshiro might actually know. Most of their neighbors were old widows and widowers or young families with fathers who were rarely home and Toshiro probably had never met. How depressing--did Toshiro not know another complete family outside his own?  
Toshiro looked up at her curiously.  
“Getting married is what you do when you decide you love someone so much you want to spend the rest of your life with them, marriage makes you family forever,” Rangiku said. “When you get married--” she broke off at her son’s disgusted expression. “What?” she demanded.  
“Love is stupid,” he declared. Love was something the neighborhood kids accused each other of, the same way they might accuse them of having lice or being dumb. It did seem to be a thing girls could be fond of, especially his mother, who seemed to love most people all the time, and everything and everyone else as well when she was drunk.  
“Definitely,” Gin agreed, before Rangiku could protest. “Best watch out you don’t get infected by such nonsense. It’s nothing but trouble. One moment you fall in love, the next you’ve got a wife and kid to feed, rent to pay, no time, no money, and no way to keep up with all the important things in a shinigami’s life. Did you realize I spend more of my time with you than on my own bankai? It’s ridiculous--I really hope you never get wrapped up in anything so destructive to your own career, Shiro-chan.  
“Marriage is best left to those who can afford it, the noble houses, and all of us peasant folk should be content to give our lives to the Gotei and to die unmourned and alone.”  
Rangiku rolled her eyes. The things he would say! She would be a lot more annoyed with him if she thought Toshiro took him seriously. Fortunately, Toshiro had long ago figured out that nothing his father ever said could be taken at face value. Even now he was looking up at his father doubtfully.  
“Then why’d you get married?” Toshiro asked, narrowed eyes focused on Gin’s smiling face.  
“It’s your mother’s fault. She’s far too popular. If I hadn’t snatched her up, some pretty-boy, rich kid would have come along and stolen her away. I couldn’t have allowed that, now could I?”  
Toshiro considered that. Like most children, he considered his parents a unit. The idea that his mother could have ended up with someone else had never occurred to him.  
His mother laughed, happily. “You know I would have waited for you forever,” she told Gin, looking at him with one of those lovey-dovey expressions Toshiro found so embarrassing, especially in public.  
He looked around quickly, and just as he suspected, people had noticed. That was the biggest problem with being the son of a lieutenant; people always noticed. They could never go anywhere in Seireitei without being watched, and that meant any time his parents did anything embarrassing somebody was going to see it.  
“How much farther is it?” he asked.  
“Are you getting tired? Poor Shiro-chan, it is a long walk,” Rangiku said. “Gin, you should carry him.”  
“I don’t need to be--”  
Toshiro found himself on his father’s shoulders before he could protest. Neither of his parents seemed to have any concept of dignity. Toshiro was far too old to be carried around, but they refused to believe it. Just because he was small they tossed him around like he was still a baby. It was humiliating, and he knew his father, at least, knew how much he hated it. He just didn’t care.  
Toshiro sighed. Someday, he promised himself, he really would be too big for this.


	16. Chapter 16

“I think we ought to make a shinigami wives club,” Rangiku declared, setting a tray of snacks on the low table that took up nearly half of the room. She was using the second room of her tiny home to host Miyako and Hisana. The futons were stored in the closet, along with all the clothes except one of Toshiro’s kimonos which had to hang on a rack against one wall to dry, as it was raining, again. There was also an overflowing box of toys in the corner. She would have liked to have blamed her son for the poor state of her housekeeping, but as her friends had already walked through the front room which was in a permanent state of chaos, she really didn’t have any ground to stand on. The walls of the room were lined with shelves crammed with books, both Gin’s ancient tomes, probably mostly permanently borrowed from various libraries and collections, and the manga she herself had gotten hooked on during a trip to the World of the Living. Then there were all the human foods Gin habitually collected, boxes of chocolate, and cases of Coca-cola, and chewing gum, and anything else that struck his fancy at the time piled in the lower kitchen and entry as there was absolutely no other place for them. There was one cabinet full of cooking supplies that Rangiku had spent an hour trying to organize before giving it up as a poor job, and in what little space was left in the six mat room Toshiro was spread across the floor with one of his father’s books on kido, and Rangiku didn’t dare ask him if he understood it because she was afraid of his answer.  
Hisana tried to protest, “I’m not a shinigami.”  
“But you’re married to one and that’s the hard part,” Rangiku told her.  
“I don’t think there are enough of us to make a club,” Miyako said.  
“There’re at least a hundred, maybe two hundred. That’s more than enough for a club,” Rangiku argued.  
“Well, they might be willing to make a club,” Miyako said. “But they wouldn’t want us in it.”  
“Why not?” Rangiku demanded.  
“We’re officers, and wives of officers,” Miyako said. “I don’t know how you haven’t noticed this, Rangiku, but there are two different types of shinigami, officers and everyone else, and we just don’t mix. I know you don’t believe in that sort of thing, but I’ve tried to talk to other women, unranked women who’ve been married for years and have kids and everything. I feel like maybe I could learn something from them, but no one would give me anything more than a ‘yes, ma’am’ ‘no ma’am’ ‘anything you say, ma’am’. It’s just annoying, and I’ll bet it would be even worse for Hisana-san. We’re apparently very important people.”  
“Well, damn,” Rangiku said. “I don’t know how anyone could think I’m important. I still carry the stench of Rukongai. Just ask Byakuya--sorry, Hisana-chan, but it's true. Every time he comes into a room I'm in he sniffs like there's something unpleasant in the air.”  
Hisana looked embarrassed, but she couldn't argue. It was only too true. Byakuya was no longer outright hostile toward her for Hisana’s sake. Rangiku had been only too right about the general reaction of the nobility to his wife, and while many ladies visited for the honor of being hosted by his wife, Hisana had not made any real friends among them. Rangiku and Miyako were the only real friends she had in Seireitei. So Byakuya wasn't even rude to Rangiku anymore, but he never quite let her forget that to him she was little better than the scum that clung to the bottom of a poorly cleaned bath. “I don't think he does it on purpose,” was the best Hisana could manage.  
Rangiku laughed. “I don't mind. I did my very best to get on his bad side. I really can't expect him to like me now--but if there aren't enough wives to make a club then I've got an even better idea for a club. We can be matchmakers and get a few of these boring old captains some romance in their lives.”  
“You're serious?” Miyako said, after a few moments staring at Rangiku as if she'd suggested they all shave their heads, strip down naked, and run through Seireitei singing a marching song.  
“Why not?” Rangiku demanded. “It would be fun, and you know some of them actually deserve to have good women in their lives.”  
“And there are a few I'd never ask a woman to go within five miles of without a couple bodyguards,” Miyako answered.  
“Who?” Rangiku demanded.  
“Captain Kurotsuchi,” Hisana said breathlessly. She’d met the captain at a recent shinigami event and had turned into a trembling mess within moments of saying “good evening” to him. Byakuya had furiously demanded to know what the scientist has done to her, and the two had very nearly come to blows  
Gin had started taking bets, and nearly everyone was disappointed when Unohana had calmed everything down. She had checked Hisana for any signs of poisoning, and in the end had reminded Byakuya that his wife was currently in a very delicate state. Rangiku had to agree with Gin that Unohana’s intervention was too bad. Byakuya’s over-protectiveness had risen by insane degrees, and they might finally have been rid of the mad scientist.  
“He doesn’t count!” Rangiku said. “I’m not even sure he’s a he and not an it.”  
“Rangiku!” Miyako said.  
“I mean like Captain Ukitake,” Rangiku said. “And my captain. I think they’d both be so much happier if they had families. It’s the silliest of all prejudices, this assumption that women will distract them from their duty as shinigami, that somehow a married man could not possibly be as good for the Gotei as a single one. I personally think that our husbands are proof that that is absolutely not the case.”  
“It’s how the General likes things,” Miyako said. “And it’s not a good idea messing with the way he wants things to be.”  
Rangiku waved her hand dismissively. “What's he going to do? He can't make falling in love against the rules. I’m going to start with Captain Ukitake. He always seems just a little bit lonely to me, and it’s not like he doesn’t have plenty of friends. I think he’s just never found the perfect girl so I’m going to find her for him.”  
Miyako and Hisana exchanged worried looks. “That could go really badly, Rangiku. Don’t you think if you’re going to play with people’s love lives you should start with someone a little tougher, like Captain Isshin?” Miyako suggested, uneasily.  
“No,” Rangiku said. “Ukitake is older so he gets to be first.”  
“What about Captain Kyoraku? He’d love to be set up with someone,” Miyako suggested.  
“It’ll be tricky finding him someone he doesn’t drive just as insane as he drives Nanao—why don’t you want me to set your captain up with anyone? Don’t you think he deserves someone?”  
Miyako sighed. “I think he lives his life the way he wants to, Rangiku. He’s had plenty of time and opportunities if he wanted them, I’m sure. If you’re really determined to mess with people’s lives you ought to work on those who are not content as they are. Otherwise, you really are only doing it for your own amusement. And I am not going to help you.”  
Rangiku leaned over to Hisana and took hold of her arm. “Miya-chan’s no fun, but you’ll help me, won’t you? Don’t you think they'd be happier with families? The poor things must be lonely. Don’t you think we should help them?”  
Hisana’s eyes dropped. “I don’t really know most of the captains.”  
Rangiku groaned. “You two are no fun, did you know that? You know Gin would help me if I asked. He’d—“  
“Don’t you dare,” Miyako interrupted. “Gin would probably post a help wanted ad, ‘Needed: Wives for Captains’ or something ridiculous like that. That is the absolute last thing any of them need.”  
Rangiku smiled for a minute at the thought. There’d be so many applicants, but, no, she really wasn’t looking for entertainment. “Of course I won’t. Even I can see Gin would make the biggest disaster of things he could manage. But I don’t understand why you’re so against helping anyone out with a little romance.”  
Miyako shook her head. “I’m sure all you want is for everyone to be happy, but people really do prefer you to mind your own business.”  
Rangiku frowned, considering that. “Even Captain Isshin?”  
“Even him.”  
Another sigh. “I don’t see why anyone would not be grateful to have someone find them the perfect spouse, but if you feel so strongly I will leave it alone—unless someone asks for my help.”  
“Then you may feel free to matchmake to your heart’s content,” Miyako agreed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro was watching his father like a hawk, memorizing the movements of his hands and the simple words of the chant, but more than that he was watching how Gin’s reiatsu and even surrounding reishi changed and responded to the chant. The power was there and shaped before Gin ever called out its name. “Hado 1–Sho.”  
Toshiro’s eyes narrowed. It looked simple enough, but things never were quite as simple as his father made them look. The little boy took a deep breath and repeated the words, looking to Gin to confirm he had them right.  
Gin smiled and nodded. “Go ahead,” he said.  
Toshiro raised his hands and concentrated on reiatsu as he spoke the words of the chant. He could tell before he had finished that he’d failed. He couldn’t make his reiatsu work like that. He didn’t even know how to begin.  
But his father just smiled and said, “Try again.”  
For two hours he just stood there, trying again and again. Anytime he started to slow down, his father was there with some new, mocking comment. “Maybe this is too hard for the little boy.” “Maybe it’s time to take him home to Mommy.” And every time Toshiro would pull together every ounce of his considerable determination and try again.  
Then finally, finally it worked and one small blast of kido knocked back a couple of stems of bamboo. Toshiro was too tired to do anything but let his arms fall to his sides.  
“About time,” Gin said, as though having a child barely old enough to read learn kido was nothing. “I was afraid we were going to be here all night. I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”  
Toshiro said nothing as his father picked him up and shunpoed back to Seireitei.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku sat uncomfortably beside the futon where Hisana lay. The poor thing was watching Shiro-chan playing Go with Byakuya on the far side of the room. From what Rangiku understood, the captain had not left his wife’s side once in the last week. He was so worried about her he had even offered to entertain Toshiro while Rangiku visited.   
Hisana had lost her baby. She’d made it six months this time before everything had gone wrong. Losing the baby had been a tragedy, but they’d very nearly lost Hisana too. Now she had been confined to bed to prevent further bleeding, and she looked weak and sad, and Rangiku felt absolutely helpless to do anything at all.  
She hadn’t even dared to come until she was invited. Rangiku hadn’t been sure Hisana would want to see her or Shiro-chan; they might just remind her of her loss.  
“He’s so perfect, isn’t he?” Hisana said after a long time watching the boy play.  
Byakuya’s eyes darted to his wife’s face for an instant before returning to the game.  
Rangiku sighed. She’d never thought she’d feel sorry for Kuchiki Byakuya, but at this moment he must be feeling a thousand times more helpless than she did. Over the past week she’d told herself it was probably good for him, finding out he wasn’t all powerful and things didn’t have to go his way just because, and maybe he could experience just a little of the pain and loss that everyone else faced all the time, but right now, looking at him still holding onto that facade of calm like a shield, she felt nothing but pity for him.  
Her eyes went to the boy who was Hisana’s focus. Toshiro looked so serious, focused on the game board. He was a funny child. He never seemed to just relax and have fun. Everything was always so serious with him. He certainly hadn't inherited that from her, but, despite his near constant smile, she had a feeling Toshiro had inherited that particular trait from Gin.  
“He’s not bad,” Rangiku said softly.  
“Was it easy for you, getting pregnant?” Hisana asked.  
Byakuya spoke up abruptly. “Have you seen the new koi pond, Toshiro-kun?” he asked.  
Toshiro looked up. “There’s a new one?”  
Byakuya nodded. “With new fish. I’m told several of them are very rare, including a very large green one.”  
“A green koi?” Toshiro looked skeptical.  
“Come with me,” Byakuya directed. “I will show it to you.”  
Rangiku watched them leave in surprise. In all the previous times they had visited, Byakuya had barely said more than three words to her son. He was clearly just getting the boy out of the way so they could speak freely, but she had to appreciate that he hadn’t just had some servant take Toshiro away.  
“He’s trying,” Hisana said softly. “For me. The doctors are concerned I might not be strong enough to ever have a baby, so Byakuya is trying to convince me we should adopt a child--there’s probably a child in one of the branch families that we could take in--but he really doesn't like children very much. I think he’d love ours, because they were a part of us, but someone else’s, I don’t know if he’d ever love it, not even after years and years.”  
“Sometimes men can surprise you,” Rangiku offered, although she personally thought Hisana was probably right. Byakuya was the sort of man to take pride in his children because they were his flesh and blood. An adopted child would always be someone else’s in his mind.  
“I suppose it was all very easy for you,” Hisana said. “You’re always so strong and healthy. You probably got pregnant just as soon as you wanted to and had no trouble at all making it all nine months. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but I see Shiro-chan and I think how easy it must have been and--”  
Rangiku interrupted her with a laugh. “Easy is not what I would have called it. Disastrous is more like it. It’s a wonder Shiro-chan’s as healthy as he is. I did absolutely everything wrong, including not going to a doctor for six months.”  
Hisana was staring at her in complete confusion.   
“Really?” Rangiku said in surprise. “Nobody told you? I would have thought it would still be a favorite topic of gossip. They all talked enough at the time. I guess getting married really did fix it. Aren’t people funny? One moment I was a whore and a disgrace to the Gotei, and the next I’m just another respectable young mother. I hope they realize I haven’t changed at all.”  
“Shiro-chan was a mistake?” Hisana said slowly.  
“I would have thought it was obvious,” Rangiku said. “How many people our age have children at all, much less one as old as Shiro-chan?”  
“In Rukongai--” Hisana began.  
“Yeah, but here?” Rangiku said.  
Hisana smiled. “So you didn’t want one, but you had one, and I want one but can’t--life is funny, isn’t it?”  
“I think we just have to make the best of whatever we get,” Rangiku said with an answering smile.  
“I hope I can do half as well as you have,” Hisana answered. “I do have so much. I will try to remember to be grateful for it.”


	17. Chapter 17

“Where are you going?” Rangiku asked.  
Gin paused at the door. He looked at the floor for a moment. Then he shrugged. “Out.”  
“Out?” Rangiku repeated, she glanced back at Toshiro, laying still on his futon in the second room. “Again?”  
He shrugged again. “I’ll be back.”  
She watched him leave before she sank slowly to the floor. “Where are you going?” she whispered.  
A moment later she felt a small hand on her shoulder. “Mom, can we go out tonight?”  
Rangiku turned to Toshiro. He was still barely taller than she was sitting on the floor. He looked very worried and serious as he looked down into her teary eyes.  
“What do you mean?” she asked.  
“Captain Isshin asked if you wanted to go to the Silver Dragon for Captain Kyoraku’s birthday tonight, remember? We wouldn’t be very late, and it would be fun,” Toshiro told her.  
She knew he was trying to come up with something to make her feel better, and that felt wrong. It wasn’t her little boy’s job to make her happy; it should always be the other way around. But she was still tempted. She’d tried not to go out as often recently, at least not when Gin wouldn’t be home to keep an eye on Toshiro. He got bored if she dragged him along, not finding a bunch of drunk grown-ups very interesting.  
She shook her head finally. “You’d be bored,” she told him.  
“No I wouldn’t,” Toshiro argued. “Captain Ukitake will be there, and he will play Go with me. He can’t drink very much because it makes him sicker, so he’d just be bored too if we didn’t go. Captain Ukitake wouldn’t have anything to do but watch everybody else drink. You know that’s no fun.”  
A smile spread across Rangiku’s face. “You’re right,” she agreed. “Go get dressed fast as you can. We’ve got to hurry.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

There were at least twenty shinigami gathered at the Silver Dragon. Rangiku and Toshiro were greeted with cheers. Space was made at one table for them, and Toshiro was given a bowl of ice cream before Rangiku found a cup of sake shoved into her hand.  
Toshiro hadn’t even taken a bite when Yachiru appeared beside him, enormous eyes staring greedily at his bowl.  
“Didn’t you get some ice cream?” Toshiro asked. He was pretty suspicious of the Eleventh Division lieutenant. She had an infinite sweet tooth and no qualms about sharing. While he wasn’t really wild about deserts in general, he really liked how cold ice cream was, and truthfully he would have eaten something he hated just to cross her.  
“Yup,” she said, still staring at his ice cream. “I ate Ken-chan’s too. Can I have yours?”  
“Go away,” he suggested.  
“If I cry your mom will make you give it to me,” Yachiru threatened.  
“No, she won’t. She’s not that stupid,” Toshiro said, glancing at his mother, who was already deep in conversation with Aunt Nanao and holding a bottle rather than a cup in her hand. “She knows all about you.”  
“Oh, yeah?” Yachiru asked, curious now. “What’s she know?”  
“How you bully everyone in Eleven, and they have to do everything you want or you go crying to Captain Zaraki,” Toshiro answered.  
“I don’t have to go crying to anyone,” Yachiru defended. “I’m the lieutenant. They have to do what I say.”  
“You’re not a real lieutenant,” Toshiro said. “You’re just a kid like me. Everybody--”  
“That’s it, Snowflake! Let’s fight! I’ll show you I’m not a little kid. I’m a real lieutenant!” the girl shouted, as an aura of pink reishi grew around her.  
“Yachiru, stop picking on the Ichimaru baby,” Kenpachi’s rough voice suddenly cut into the argument. “You want more ice cream, go bug the kitchen.”  
The girl’s scowl turned into a grin when he mentioned the kitchen, and she vanished the moment he quit speaking.  
Toshiro, freed of her harassment, couldn’t feel grateful. He glared across the room at the giant captain and said, “I’m not a baby.”  
“Yeah, ya are,” Kenpachi answered with a huge grin. “But looks like you got more backbone than your old man. Maybe you’ll be worth something when you grow up.”  
“Hey,” Rangiku said, loudly. “Gin’s not a coward!” Then she paused as if thinking over her own words. “I don’t think he is,” she said more softly, still looking a little unsure. Then she smiled suddenly, a thought occurring to her. “He’s smart and he’s careful, and if you’d teach your boys to be a little more like him they wouldn’t be spending half their time in Division Four.”  
At that, Kenpachi chuckled loudly. “Probably so, probably so, but what fun would that be?”  
Rangiku raised her bottle in salute. “Agreed. Why be smart when you can have fun? I never bother to do anything if it isn’t fun.”  
“I can attest to that,” Isshin said, loudly.  
“Captain!” she immediately protested. “I almost always finish my reports on time now.”  
“I noticed that,” he said, frowning. “What is it you’re up to, Rangiku-chan?”  
“I'm being a good worker and a responsible mother,” she answered and glanced back toward Toshiro.  
His bowl was empty, and he was nowhere to be seen. She jumped to her feet before she'd even had a chance to process the sudden rush of terror that empty space inspired. She looked over the heads of all the gathered shinigami. There was no white in the sea of black. Her son was nowhere to be seen.  
Just as she was about to scream his name, she felt a tug on her hakama.  
“Rangiku-chan,” Nanao said calmly.  
Rangiku looked down to see her friend pointing behind her. She followed Nanao's direction to find her son seated at a Go table not five feet behind her. He was sitting across from Yachiru, who had regained her pink aura.  
Captain Ukitake was sitting with them, explaining the basics of the game to the determined girl. Toshiro looked annoyed. He’d been playing the game since before he could count, and he hated playing amateurs--and that included his mother.  
“Oh,” Rangiku let out a deep breath as she sank back to the floor. Then she reached for her bottle and took a deep drink before she spoke again. “How does anyone survive having kids?”  
“I have no idea,” Nanao answered. Then she added, “Not that I’ll ever need to,” under her breath.  
Rangiku leaned close to the lieutenant. “There are plenty of men to choose from. You should ask one of them to walk you home tonight,” she suggested softly.  
“What?” Nanao demanded, staring at Rangiku like she was out of her mind.  
“There are,” Rangiku insisted, looking over the group that had gathered for Kyoraku’s birthday. Kenpachi certainly wasn’t an option, and Lieutenant Iba just wasn’t smart enough for Nanao. Why weren’t there more intelligent shinigami? “What about Captain Isshin?” she suggested finally, although they really didn’t seem like much of a match.  
“Captain Shiba?” Nanao said, looking even more doubtful as to Rangiku’s sanity.  
“I don’t know, but someone,” Rangiku said, still unable to think of anyone Nanao might be remotely interested in, although she could think of over a dozen men who found the librarian-ish lieutenant of Division Eight extremely attractive. “There are plenty of good men around; you just have to give them a chance. Just pick someone you find attractive and ask him to walk you home. You might find out you really like him or you might not, but either way you should just give it a try. You are always going to be alone if you don’t take any chances, and if you do anything you want to take back tomorrow you can always blame it all on the alcohol.”  
Nanao stared at Rangiku as though she'd never heard anything so insane in her life.  
“It's what I used to do back when Gin was pretending to ignore me, seemed kinder than telling some poor boy I'd spent an evening making out with that I'd just been using him to try to get over the love of my life,” Rangiku said.  
Nanao blanched. “Did you do that often?”  
“I was drunk!” Rangiku protested. Then she grinned. “See, it totally excuses a lack of self-control, especially to those of us who tend to get drunk a lot. They know better than to mention it again, and you can all go back to being friends.”  
“Then they can do the same thing to you, can't they?” Nanao said, looking down at the still full sake cup in her hand.  
Rangiku rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s a chance. Everything is, but what’s the point of having a heart if you’re not willing to risk breaking it?”  
“Maybe if there was someone I really--” Nanao sighed. “I’m fine the way I am. I have far too much work to waste time worrying about men. Despite what my captain believes, my division doesn’t run itself. Maybe someday it will be different, but for now the division is my life.”  
Rangiku sighed. She really was going to have to think of someone perfect for Nanao. She wondered if maybe Miyako would be willing to help her with that. It really was a pity Hisana wasn’t in the Gotei; she’d help any way she could.   
Rangiku lifted her bottle to her mouth once more and was disappointed to discover it was empty. She had just raised her head to see if she could spot a waitress when there was a small explosion and a shriek just behind her, and suddenly Go tiles were raining down on the entire party.  
“You’re such a sore loser!” Toshiro shouted above the chaos.  
“I didn’t know it was so breakable! I didn’t mean to break your game! Why would anyone make a game out of such flimsy wood anyway?”  
Rangiku and the entire party turned to the captain and two children. All three of them were covered with the ashen remains of the Go table, all that was left of what had been a considerable slab of wood before Yachiru had hit it with a blast of kido. The two children were grey with ash as they stood yelling at each other, but no one even noticed because the frail captain doubled over, coughing harshly.  
Nanao was on her feet and reached Ukitake an instant ahead of Kyoraku, both of them demanding to know if he was alright.  
He tried to shake them off, but the next moment he coughed up a bright red spray of blood.  
“Hey, Whitey, you ok?” Yachiru demanded, and Toshiro stared as the captain continued to cough.  
Rangiku grabbed both of the children and pulled them out of the way. There were a few minutes of chaos while people suggested getting a healer, and the shop owner started freaking out about the destruction to his restaurant, but eventually he was directed to Kenpachi, and he shut up, and Kyoraku and Nanao vanished with Ukitake, deciding shunpo was the best way to get him to a healer. And the party was over.  
It hadn't been half long enough in Rangiku’s opinion, but Toshiro was yawning, and he should have been in bed hours ago. There really was nothing to do but take him home.  
She set his feet in his sandals and stood up, pulling him to his feet as well. “Come on, then,” she declared, forcing a smile. “Time to go home.”  
Toshiro was staggering almost as badly as she was as they set off down the road, and Rangiku was beginning to wonder where she’d gotten the obviously very bad idea of taking her son to a party where she intended to get completely smashed. She never did think about the going home portion of the evening. She could try to carry him, but she really didn’t trust her balance.  
Abruptly someone picked Toshiro up, and she looked over to see her captain carrying her son. Even as she watched, Toshiro’s eyes closed and his head fell against Isshin’s shoulder.  
“Thank you, Captain,” Rangiku said, and she set one hand on his arm to steady herself.  
“Where’s Gin gotten himself to tonight?” Isshin asked, and Rangiku could hear the clear condemnation in his tone.  
“He has a lot to work on,” Rangiku said, trying to excuse her absent husband. “He’s trying to master his bankai.”  
“He do that every night?” Isshin asked.  
“No, he--” Rangiku broke off. She couldn’t remember one night in the past three months Gin had not either been late or left for a large portion of the night. Twice he’d vanished for three days in a row. “Lieutenants have a lot of responsibilities. He always tries to spend at least one day at home with us each week, but he has a lot of other things he has to tend to as well, and mastering bankai is a very large commitment of time.”  
“He hasn’t gotten a girlfriend or anything like that, has he, Rangiku-chan?”  
Rangiku just gave her captain a look.  
“Yeah, I didn’t think so either,” Isshin answered. “But he’s up to something, and I don’t like it. He’s going out to Rukongai too often, and his snooping is getting worse. He knows things only a captain should know, and some of his teasing’s hitting a lot harder than it should. I don’t know what he’s playing at, but I’m afraid he’s going to end up in a hell of a lot of trouble if he doesn’t watch himself.”  
Rangiku nodded. “I know,” she agreed. “But he won’t talk to me about it. I don’t know what to do.”  
“I hate to think he could put you and Shiro-chan at risk, but--”  
“No,” Rangiku interrupted. “Whatever it is he’s doing, I’m sure he believes it’s the best thing for us. He wouldn’t do something he thought could hurt us, unless not doing it would be worse. He doesn’t do that. He never puts what he wants first. That’s not something he does.”  
Isshin shook his head. Sometimes the faith women had in their men was simply stupefying. The idea that Rangiku honestly believed that Ichimaru Gin wouldn’t just do what he wanted when he wanted, but would always consider her first was so far beyond funny it was downright pitiful. But that’s what she believed, and Isshin knew better than to try to convince her otherwise.  
“You just make sure you don’t let him get you mixed up in it, alright, Rangiku-chan? He starts asking you to do things that seem a bit suspicious you remember you’ve got this boy to think about, and if his dad’s getting himself into some kind of trouble he’s going to need his mom twice as bad.”  
Rangiku nodded and tightened her grip on her captain’s arm to keep from stumbling. “Don’t worry, Captain. Gin’s not going to let me help him out no matter how bad I want to.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku was only vaguely aware of the knocking on the front door. She groaned and pulled her heavy cotton-stuffed comforter over her head. She wasn’t sure how she’d managed to drink enough the night before to have this kind of a hangover, but sometimes she just got lucky.  
She heard the door open and muffled voices speaking in the front room, but she really couldn’t make herself care. Maybe Gin had come home or maybe Toshiro was hosting a party in the other room; she just didn’t care.  
But then the door by her head slid open, and her blanket was peeled back. Nanao was looking down at her with a definite expression of disappointment.  
“It’s nearly noon, Rangiku,” Nanao said as she knelt beside her friend. “And all your son’s eaten is a bowl of dried persimmons.”  
“So tell him to eat some potato chips,” Rangiku suggested and tried to pull the blanket back up.  
“If you’ll get up,” Nanao said. “I’ll make you both some lunch and tell you about last night.”  
“What about last night?” Rangiku demanded, sitting up abruptly, and then falling back down onto her pillow with her hands over her head. “Shiro-chan, could you bring me the pink bottle from Unohana?” she groaned.  
Nanao watched curiously as Toshiro opened the closet door and pulled out a good sized box which he set on the floor and then climbed on top of to climb onto the higher closet shelf. Then he climbed onto a pile of winter clothes and reached up to a smaller shelf high up in the back of the closet where there was a row of small glass bottles and boxes that looked like various medicines. He stood on his toes to get down the pink bottle and calmly climbed back down, returning the box/step to the closet and closing the door before he brought the bottle to his mother.  
Rangiku thanked him and took a quick swig of the bottle.  
“That seems like a pretty difficult place to reach,” Nanao said to Toshiro as he took the bottle from his mother to return to the shelf.  
“It’s to keep kids from accidentally getting into the medicine,” Toshiro told her as he slid the bottle in place. Then he turned around and added, “Not me, but sometimes neighbor kids come over to play. They’re not always real smart.”  
“Oh,” Nanao said, unable to argue.  
It only took a fee minutes for Rangiku to transform back into an actual person. While she was dressing, Toshiro watched Nanao cook. He seemed quite fascinated by the process and was very impressed that she managed to turn various dried ingredients along with a vegetable or two his father considered a reasonable raw snack into a hot meal including rice, apparently they had some, and miso soup, although she had been a little skeptical about the state of the miso.  
“Oh, it all looks delicious!” Rangiku said, as she came out of the room with even her hair and makeup perfectly in place. “Thank you, Nanao-chan. Say thank you, Shiro-chan. It was very nice of Auntie Nanao to make lunch for us.”  
“Shiro-chan helped,” Nanao informed Rangiku.  
“He’s a good little helper,” Rangiku said, smiling at Toshiro who glared back. He never appreciated being called a ‘little’ anything.  
“So about last night?” Rangiku asked after they’d been eating for a while.  
Toshiro raised his head. “Is Captain Ukitake alright?” he asked, quickly.  
Nanao smiled. “Yes, he’s fine. Captain Unohana promised he could go home first thing in the morning. The ash irritated his lungs a little, that’s all.”  
“Then it was that girl’s fault,” Toshiro said darkly.  
“Yachiru had no idea she would hurt Captain Ukitake, and she was very sorry about it. Don’t you go holding it against her. She just made a mistake,” Rangiku told him.  
He rolled his eyes. “She just is a mistake,” he said. Then, hearing the shouts of other children outside, he added, “Can I go play now?”  
Rangiku nodded and watched him go with a smile on her face. “Look who’s talking,” she said softly, after he was gone. “My sweet little mistake.”  
“I took your advice,” Nanao said, abruptly.  
“What?” Rangiku demanded, spinning back around.  
“I--” Nanao looked more than a little annoyed. “I was at Division Four with the Captain for hours, trying to keep him from panicking because when he’s drunk he has no sense whatsoever; not that he has much the rest of the time, but he gets weepy and worried if anything goes wrong—and all I could think is that all I am is a babysitter. I’m not his lieutenant because I’m exceptional in any way; I’m his lieutenant because he needs someone to be a grownup and do all the boring grownup work he’s too lazy to bother with. Anyone with half a brain could do my job.”  
“That’s not true,” Rangiku protested. “Nanao, you—“  
“Probably not,” Nanao interrupted. “But last night it felt like it, so I decided I’d had enough, and I was going to leave him there to worry on his own. He didn’t need me there so why should I stay?”  
“Good for you,” Rangiku agreed. “Why should you?”  
Nanao glared at Rangiku for a moment. “If that was all that happened do you think I would be here now?” she asked coolly.  
“Then what happened?” Rangiku demanded, now really curious.  
“Unohana has a new Third Seat I’d never met before, Iemura, and he offered to walk me home because it was after two in the morning.”  
“Oh, no,” Rangiku gasped. Toshiro’s heat problems meant she spent more time visiting Division Four than the average shinigami. She’d met the new Third Seat.  
“All I did was let him walk me home!” Nanao exclaimed. “I got to work this morning and there were flowers on my desk! Flowers! And the captain kept giggling to himself he was so pleased! He thinks the idea of me having an admirer is funny! Funny! Why should it be funny? Why shouldn’t someone be interested in me?”   
Nanao groaned. “But Third Seat Iemura is so awful! I nearly shunpoed home the minute he started talking about himself, but I didn’t want to be rude--rude! I should throw his flowers in his stupid face!”  
“That might be a clear enough message,” Rangiku said. She felt fairly sure that Iemura would take some pretty serious discouraging now that he’d decided Nanao liked him. He seemed very dense on top of being absurdly vain.  
“Well, I can’t because I already threw it at Captain Kyoraku,” Nanao said.  
Rangiku choked back a laugh. How serious, studious Nanao would go from calmly ignoring her captain’s antics to suddenly smacking him or throwing things at him was famous throughout the Gotei, not that Rangiku’d ever had the pleasure of seeing it for herself. This was honestly the most upset she’d ever seen Nanao get. She was finding it both enlightening, and, although she would never admit it, entertaining. “Well, you’ll just have to be really clear with Third Seat Iemura. Really, really clear.”  
“This is all your fault, you know,” Nanao said. “Telling me I ought to give some man a chance. I was perfectly happy simply going on with my life just as it is until you got in my head and started me thinking.”  
“I would never have suggested Iemura!” Rangiku protested. “And I never would have suggested anything at all if you hadn’t looked very unhappy at the prospect of being single for the foreseeable future.”  
“My life is fine as it is,” Nanao said stiffly. “I have made a fool of myself in front of my captain and my entire division, and likely Division Four as well. I should never have listened to you in the first place.”  
“You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed about,” Raigiku said. “You let a Third Seat walk you home late at night after you had been out drinking. It was a sensible thing to do. It’s not your fault if he misinterpreted it as something more. You’ll set him straight, and that’ll be the end of it. You can't let one idiot make you give up on the idea of ever finding anyone.”  
Nanao shook her head. There were many things she didn’t understand about Rangiku, but the one that puzzled her most was Rangiku’s desire to see all of her friends married. From Nanao’s perspective, Rangiku’s marriage was far from ideal. Toshiro was an amazing child, and he would make anyone think that having children could be nice, but if she had to put up with someone like Gin--she’d rather be single for the rest of her life. “I am perfectly happy with the way things are now. I’m not saying that will always be the case. Things could change someday, but at the moment I see absolutely no reason to go about looking for a man.”  
Rangiku looked very disappointed, but she did accept Nanao’s answer. “I didn’t mean to meddle,” she said softly. “I just wanted to help. I’m sorry I got you in such a mess.”  
“You didn’t do it,” Nanao said. “I did, and now I’ve got to go explain to Third Seat Iemura that I am never going to be his darling. Thank you for letting me complain a little first. I feel much more confident I can handle him without making a spectacle of myself now. I just needed to calm down a bit first.”  
Rangiku sighed to herself after Nanao left. Maybe her matchmaking plan wasn’t quite as brilliant as she had thought. It was, she supposed, possible that Miyako and Nanao were right, and people really were happy with things the way they were.


	18. Chapter 18

The men of the Tenth Division were running through kido drills. To one side, the unofficial mascot of the Tenth Division, Ichimaru Toshiro was working through the same drills. He imitated their stances perfectly, better than quite a few of them. He knew every chant by heart and recited them as clearly as the rest of the group when they went through each in unison. The only difference was he was wearing a pink and blue patterned kosode and hakama his mother thought was adorable, and he used no kido. No kido in public, ever, was his father’s rule, and he obeyed without question. The threatened consequences were too severe.  
His mother, completely ignorant of her son’s actual skill, smiled as she passed him, carrying a clipboard. She was evaluating each squad member as they practiced. She had gotten very good at picking out weaknesses that needed additional attention, and she led extra training courses in the afternoons where she could focus on individual needs.  
She enjoyed the roles she had developed in the division since Toshiro was born. She had started out doing a lot of the training and had been made personally in charge of each year’s new members, making sure each fit well in their new positions. She was much more aware than Lieutenant Hanada or Captain Isshin of how their personalities and interactions with their peers would affect their performance. Somehow that responsibility had evolved into assisting in making assignments throughout the division, so much so that neither the captain nor the lieutenant would even dream of giving a long-term assignment without running it by Rangiku first.  
Her only frustration was that Gin remained the only person willing to push her zanpakuto training at all. Any other man approaching her with a sword, even a wooden practice sword, treated her like a glass doll they were terrified of breaking. The sexist idiots, she’d knocked enough of them on their asses in return for their special consideration.  
As she was pacing back behind the men, Fourth Seat Oda ran up to her. She did her best to refrain from glaring at him. It wasn’t his fault the stupid captain had given him Miyako’s seat rather than move her up--he’d left the damn seat empty for nearly five years too, Rangiku thought bitterly.  
But, no, she smiled at Oda, and asked, “What’s up?” In her friendliest tone.  
“Ichimaru-san,” the young man said. He was terrified of the woman and would admit it if anyone asked. He didn't care if he outranked her. “The captain would like to see you in his office.”  
“Ok,” she agreed, and handed the confused man the clipboard. “Here, write down anything you notice and make sure Shiro-chan doesn’t wander off. If I’m not back by lunch just take him to the mess hall with you. He’ll find Kei-chan, and she’ll make sure he gets fed.”  
Oda watched after her, wondering when babysitting had become part of a fourth seat’s duty, and decided it had probably been the moment Ichimaru Rangiku decided it was.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku stepped into the office as soon as she knocked on the door. Lieutenant Hanada was standing in front of his desk, speaking to Captain Isshin, as the captain leaned back casually in his chair. The scene was so familiar that Rangiku might not have realized something was up, but the reiatsu on her left was not something she was ever going to miss.  
She turned to her husband, sitting in one of the comfortable chairs they had for visitors. “What are you doing here?” she demanded suspiciously.  
“So mean, Ran-chan,” Gin said, smiling pleasantly. “People will think you don’t like me--I was invited.”  
She turned to her captain in confusion. “Sir?”  
Isshin sat forward and smiled. “I was just talking over a possible change of assignment for you with your husband. You don’t mind, now, do you?”  
Rangiku bit back the urge to tell him that she most certainly did mind, as it was none of Gin’s business what any of her assignments were. He wasn’t her damned father. She decided what she did, thank you very much. “Of course not, sir,” she said, smiling pleasantly.  
Behind her, Gin sighed. She was glad that he, at least, realized he was in trouble.  
Isshin just laughed as he got to his feet. “Well, Rangiku-chan, I’ve been telling your husband how impressed I’ve been with your performance these past few years. Was a time I couldn’t depend on you to get anything done on time, now you’re taking care of the whole division.”  
Rangiku nodded. “Thank you, sir.” She was mostly annoyed, though. He never noticed how much she had improved with Haineko or even in kido, where she had never spent much time before, but now had become one of the best in the division.  
“You’ve become a real asset, and, as it turns out Hanada, here, is leaving us for a special assignment in the World of the Living, I’m going to be needing a new lieutenant in two weeks. How would you like to be that new lieutenant?”  
Rangiku’s mouth fell open. She’d thought she’d never be allowed to move up again, that having a baby had put a permanent end to any upward mobility. Isshin had made it very clear on numerous occasions that he was not going to give her any more combat assignments, which, in her mind at least, made her virtually useless.  
“Now, before you get too excited, there are a few rules you need to understand; you don’t like them, you don’t take the job, understand?”  
“Yes, sir,” she said, nodding immediately.  
“I’m not going to be sending you out to lead combat missions--”  
“Sir!” she interrupted, but when he looked at her she nodded.  
“Lieutenant Ise doesn’t lead missions; in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her draw a zanpakuto. You are going to be expected to fulfill a position much like Lieutenant Ise. You’re going to keep this place running smoothly. You can allocate any work you don’t feel like doing as long as it gets done and gets done right. You know people. You can see where they’ll be most useful, and you notice when they need help. I’m bad at both, so you’ll be the perfect lieutenant for the division, if you’re willing to take the job under those conditions.”  
“You’ve forgotten one,” Gin said softly.  
Rangiku glared back at him, telling him silently to mind his own business.  
“A very important one, too,” Isshin said. “As long as you’re a lieutenant, unless the order comes from above, you are not going to the World of the Living.”  
“What?” Rangiku demanded. She loved the World of the Living. She went every chance she got. She had even gotten Gin to take her to a hot spring there. It was wonderful! What the hell were they thinking, telling her she couldn’t go? “Why the hell not?”  
Isshin’s eyes went to Gin, and Rangiku turned her fury on her husband. “This was your idea? What, are you just sick of me filling the house with manga? Why the hell would you want to stop me from going to the World of the Living?”  
“Ran, if you become a lieutenant your reiatsu will be restricted. If you run into something big you might not be able to protect yourself. You could--”  
“I am so sick of you men telling me I can’t protect myself. I am a shinigami just like you, and I have fought hollows with my life on the line. I am not some delicate little princess--”  
“Rangiku,” Isshin interrupted, and he waited for her to turn and face him before he continued. “Those are the rules. Take it or leave it.”  
She stared at him for a moment, and they could all see she was fighting the urge to scream. “Fine,” she said, after a few deep and calming breaths. “I’ll follow your rules, and I won’t complain. And I do appreciate your confidence in me. That you would choose me, even with all these limitations, is a great honor. Thank you, sir.” And with that she bowed low.  
“I know you’re going to be an excellent lieutenant, Rangiku-chan. I’ve always expected you to make it eventually.”  
“Thank you,” she said again. “I’d better get back to Shiro-chan now, sir, if there’s nothing else?”  
“Go on. We’ll get together later to make some plans. I’ll be announcing your promotion next week. Please, try not to spread it around till then.”  
“Yes sir. Thank you,” she said again. Then she turned, and for a second she looked at Gin. “And you are in so much trouble.” And with that she stormed out of the room.  
“Not going after her?” Isshin asked in amusement. He would have given her the same restrictions regardless, but Gin’s presence had virtually let him off the hook.  
“Nah,” Gin said, lightly. “She enjoys her lunches with Shiro-chan. I wouldn't want to interrupt.”  
Isshin burst out laughing at that and didn't stop until Gin was long gone.


	19. Chapter 19

The swirling ash put Gin on the defensive for the moment. He was forced to move back quickly, out of its path. But the instant he was free of the swirling, he struck out with Shinso, a glancing blow that left a line of blood on her cheek.  
His attack distracted her and slowed the gray cloud. He hit her again twice, once across the back of the hand, then her left calf, but at that instant he stumbled and a blow from the ash that might have hit his arm slammed into his back.  
“No!” Rangiku shouted, and threw her zanpakuto to the ground, running to Gin as the blade reformed.  
Gin was on his hands and knees, glaring back at his right foot, still coated with a thick layer of ice pinning it to the ground.  
“Are you alright?” Rangiku demanded, dropping to her knees and pulling off his black kosode and white shitagi. “What happened?”  
Blood was oozing from a shallow gouge to his upper back. Fortunately she had stopped Haineko almost instantly. It wasn’t a dangerous injury, but from the look on Gin’s face, it had to hurt like hell.  
Gin yanked his foot off the ground, shattering the ice, and turned toward the house, where Toshiro was standing on the back step, watching him with very wide eyes. “Your son happened,” he said.  
Rangiku turned in surprise. “Shiro-chan?”  
“I won’t let him hurt you,” the boy declared, thrusting his chin forward in defiance.  
“Hurt me?” Rangiku repeated, looking completely confused. “Daddy would never hurt me.”  
Gin raised a hand to her cheek, wiping the blood away with one finger. She looked at his finger in surprise. “Guess you got me, too,” she told him. Then she hopped to her feet. “Wait here. I’ll get you a bandage.”  
She grabbed Toshiro’s hand as she went inside. “You are in trouble,” she told him as she rushed about, finding antiseptic, bandages, and cotton rags. “You are in so much trouble. How could you think your daddy would hurt me? He would never do that. He's helping me train my shikai. Everyone in my squad refuses to take me seriously, so he's the only one who is really helping me train. He can’t go easy on me or I'll never get any stronger.”  
She drug Toshiro back outside as she continued to speak. “These scratches that you're so worried about will be gone by tomorrow, but the lesson I learned about leaving myself open is something I'll never forget. Do you understand?”  
She dropped down next to Gin. “How bad is it?” she asked as she started to wash away the blood.  
“Not bad enough,” he answered. “If it had been Senbonzakura I would be on my way to Division Four. You’ve got to get more power into your attack or it's useless. It’s just a distraction, and you might as well use your breasts for that. At least you'd still be armed.”  
“I was afraid you'd say that,” Rangiku answered, placing the cotton against his back and unrolling a long strip of fabric to hold it in place.  
Toshiro kept his head bowed as he sat beside her. He knew he'd made a mistake. It was obvious in retrospect, but seeing Shinso slash at his mother over and over at such insane speed had made him panic. It was the first time while watching his parents spar that he had really been aware of the difference between them, and he'd realized that with a simple flick of his wrist his father could end his mother's life. So he’d panicked. He’d only wanted to protect his mother. That wasn’t really that bad, was it?  
“Now,” Rangiku said, sitting back and turning her eyes on her son. “You are going to apologize to your father, and I don’t mean just for tripping him and getting him hurt, although that was also very wrong and very dangerous, and if you ever get involved in one of our matches again I will beat you till you can’t sit down for a week. Don’t think I won’t. You could get yourself or someone else killed. You can never ever do that, but what you are going to apologize to your father for is something even more serious. You need to tell him you are sorry for ever, ever thinking he might hurt me, and you will never try to protect me from him again. We are a family. We love and trust each other. We don’t hurt each other, and we never have to be afraid of each other. Do you understand?”  
Toshiro nodded solemnly. “Yes, Mom,” he said softly.  
“Now apologize to your father.”  
Toshiro’s eyes shifted from his mother’s worried face to his father. Gin was watching him thoughtfully, for once not smiling, but still, his expression gave nothing away. “I’m sorry,” he said, almost wishing he could have taken a spanking instead.  
“What are you sorry for?” Rangiku demanded.  
“I’m sorry I thought you might kill Mom, and I’m sorry I hurt you. I was wrong,” he said.  
“Now, go inside and get ready for bed,” Rangiku directed.  
He raised his head, trying to judge his chances for mercy. It was at least an hour and a half till his usual bedtime. Nope, his mother looked really upset, more upset than she ever looked. “I’m sorry, Mom,” he said, and then he got up and headed inside.  
Rangiku threw her arms around her husband’s neck, wailing, “Gin!” Tears she’d been holding back spilled onto his shoulder. “Oh, Gin! Did you hear him? How could he think you could try to kill me?”  
“It doesn’t mean anything. Just means he was scared by Shinso. He hadn’t ever seen my shikai before. He had no idea what it would be like. It would scare anyone who wasn’t expecting it. But I like that his instinct was to protect you. As long as he’s trying to keep you safe, I don’t think I can really be angry with him.”  
“But he shouldn’t--” Rangiku broke off. She knew that her husband and her son were not close. They never had been. Gin had been watching Toshiro warily since his birth. Rangiku wasn’t sure what to make of it. He kept a constant eye on the boy, but rarely interacted with him unless she forced him to, but even then he kept Toshiro at arms length, hiding every real thought and feeling from his own child as thoroughly as he did from everyone else.  
She knew Toshiro felt it. He wasn’t old enough to understand what Gin was doing or why, but he instinctively felt shut out. He felt unwanted and unloved, and he didn’t trust the one person he should be able to trust more than anyone else in the universe. “You need to tell him what he means to you,” she said softly.  
“Ran--”  
“He doesn’t know. You’re his daddy, but he doesn’t know you’d fight and kill and die for him. He doesn’t even think you like him, and he doesn’t trust you. He knows you lie to him, and he knows you disappear for days with no explanation. He doesn’t even know who you are.”  
“Toshiro doesn’t or you don’t, Ran?”  
Rangiku’s eyes dropped. “You’re my two favorite people in the whole world. Please try. For me, please.”  
Gin pulled her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her. She sighed as she leaned against him. It wasn't the first time she wanted to demand the truth from Gin, to insist that he tell her everything he was hiding, but she knew there was no point. He would never tell her. Whatever it was was something terrible. She almost wished he was having an affair because the things she imagined were so much worse. Who knew what sorts of crimes or conspiracies he could be involved in? It had started so long ago. They’d just been children. He’d always kept her out, kept her safe, even tried to distance himself from her after the Academy. If it weren’t for Toshiro, would he have pulled even further away?


	20. Chapter 20

Captain Shiba Isshin frowned when he felt a sudden presence at the window. The reiatsu was unreadable, probably strong but suppressed to near invisibility. It had to be either one of the Stealth Squad, Soifon, or, “Are you planning on standing there all night?”  
Gin hopped over the window sill and smiled pleasantly. “Good evening, Captain Isshin,” he said in a perfectly friendly tone.  
“Rangiku went home hours ago,” Isshin informed the smiling lieutenant.  
“Oh, I know,” Gin said, still smiling. “She’s taking a bath at the moment. I’m supposed to be reading Shiro a bedtime story, but I really think the whole point of teaching him to read was so he could read his own bedtime stories. Why else did I go through all that trouble?”  
“Why are you here, Gin?” Isshin asked.  
“Why?” Gin repeated, looking hurt. “You don’t think I just came by to be friendly? Well, I suppose, if you must know, I came by to do you a favor.”  
Isshin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want for this favor?”  
“Want?” Gin tilted his head to one side and did his best to look innocent. “Why would I want anything? I’m just here to help out my very good friend, Captain Isshin. If, because we’re such good friends, he wants to support my bid for captain at New Years, I would, of course, be grateful, but I’m here to help regardless.”  
“What do you need my support for? Aizen’s told me you could have passed the test years ago.”  
“It’s just a much nicer way to make captain, isn’t it? With the support of more than half the captains, makes one feel welcome, don't you think?”  
“And here I was thinking you wanted to keep your bankai secret.”  
Gin’s smile grew enormous. “That too, but honestly, Captain, I am here for you.”  
“Yeah, let’s hear it then,” Isshin said. “How do you think you can help me?”  
“While I was enjoying my favorite hobby of eavesdropping, just yesterday, I think it was, I happened to overhear a couple of boys from the Fujiya family discussing an issue they are planning to bring before the meeting of the Four Families--that would be the day after tomorrow, wouldn’t it?   
“Seems they’ve been in business with your brother Hiroki for a while now--he’s the one in charge of sake production, isn’t he? A bit over ambitious for that sort of job, if you ask me, but I don’t suppose it’s any of my business. Unfortunately, Hiroki-chan is a really bad judge of character, and he let these Fujiya boys talk him into a few risky investments that went south a couple months ago. Then, just to prove how stupid he really is, he let these two talk him into covering his debts using Kuchiki money he'd received to invest in expanding the sake business. One assumes he was too embarrassed to tell you how much of the family wealth he’d lost, but if they’re allowed to reveal the whole scheme at the meeting, he’s going to bring down the entire Shiba family with him. It’s going to be a lot worse than embarrassing.”  
By the end of the speech a look of horror had overtaken Isshin’s face. “Please tell me you’re joking, Lieutenant,” he said softly.  
“I really would like to,” Gin said. “But it seems the Fujiya are making a play for your place in the hierarchy. Normally I’d wish them luck; such a clever move deserves to be rewarded, but seeing as we’re such good friends...”  
Isshin stood up. “If what you’ve told me is true, and if you had no part in it, and you can be sure I will look into that, then--then you will have my support at New Years.”  
Gin grinned. “Brilliant!” he said. “Good luck fixing everything up with Kuchiki. I’ve gotta get home before Ran-chan gets out of the bath.” And with that he vanished.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku and Toshiro were both surprised when Gin offered to take Toshiro to the Fifth Division for the day. He made the offer irresistible by promising to work with Toshiro on shunpo, which Toshiro had been desperate to learn for years. He was sure it would give him more independence, or at least mean his parents didn’t have to keep picking him up every time they were in a hurry.  
Rangiku didn’t find herself entering the Tenth Division alone very often, and it made her feel a little bit lonely. That is until half the division mobbed her in the courtyard. Everyone was asking her where the captain had gone in the middle of the night and why he hadn’t left better instructions than a quickly scrawled note that said all exercises should proceed uninterrupted.  
“Then why are you all here?” Rangiku demanded, looking over a crowd that contained mostly seated officers.  
Third Seat Shirai held up an envelope and said, “The captain left it for you.”  
As Rangiku took the letter the questions started back up. Why had the captain left? Where was he? When was he coming back?  
“You all are being ridiculous,” Rangiku told them as she quickly scanned the letter. “He’s gone home to deal with some family business, that’s all. You’d think the world had ended,” she said, pushing through the crowd. “He’ll be back as soon as he can, so everybody just calm down and get to work.”  
She found herself feeling very grateful to Gin for taking Toshiro off her hands. He was a very well behaved child, but he was still a child and had a tendency to be underfoot when she was busy. And she was extremely busy. She could have sworn that Captain Isshin did almost none of the day-to-day business of running the division, but somehow, with him gone, she found herself running around nonstop, checking up on everything and answering questions. It was ridiculous. She vowed the moment the captain was back she was going to redo everything so the division could run smoothly without any input from her or the captain for at least a few days at a time.  
She had no idea the day had even passed when Gin and Toshiro appeared at the office door, offering to join her for dinner. She sighed with relief when she saw them there. Her day was done. She didn’t care that there were still tasks that needed doing, most noticeably the paperwork. It would keep for tomorrow.  
“How did your training go?” she asked Toshiro as she picked him up and hugged him tight.  
“Mom!” he protested, pushing her away and managing to twist out of her arms. He sighed when his feet were back on the ground. His mother was never going to get it. She’d keep picking him up until he was too heavy to carry and then she’d probably still be all huggy. “I think I understand how shunpo works now. It will probably take me a week or two to get it to work right.”  
“A week or two?” Rangiku repeated, looking to Gin for confirmation. He just smiled and shrugged. “It took me a year to learn shunpo, and I was already a shinigami! How can you learn it in a week or two?”  
“I’m just good at that sort of thing,” he answered. His father had recently taken down the limiter in the doorway of their home, allowing Toshiro to keep his reiatsu suppressed on his own, but also giving him access to a great deal more strength than he’d been working with so far. It felt to Toshiro like everything had suddenly become very easy.  
He was also getting along a little better with his father. Not that he would go so far as to say he liked Gin or even trusted him--his mother was insane and everybody knew it--but at least now training wasn’t complete torture. He felt like they shared at least one common goal, to make him stronger, strong enough that if danger ever threatened, he would be the one keeping his mother safe and not the other way around. It made them almost a team, and today, working on shunpo, could almost have been fun--if his father hadn’t kept laughing every time he messed up.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

For the next three days Toshiro went to the Fifth Division with his father, and Rangiku went to the Tenth alone. She was exhausted and sick to death of running everything by the time Isshin finally reappeared, and she was so tired herself that she didn’t even notice how stressed her captain looked.  
“About time,” she declared, when Isshin staggered in not long before noon on the fourth day. “What have you been up to all this time?”  
“My little brother killed himself, Rangiku. He left a wife and half-grown son drowning in debt. I've had a lot to take care of. I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s alright with you.”  
“I’m so sorry,” Rangiku gasped as she watched her captain cross the room slowly to his desk.  
Isshin sat down and stared at his desk for a moment, before raising his head to address his lieutenant once more. “You can tell your husband he has my support when he needs it,” he said, and then he pulled a huge stack of paperwork over to get started on.

There was a lot of speculation days later when it was learned that a large swath of Shiba land and property had been transferred to Kuchiki holdings, but as the deal had been negotiated directly between the two heads of house, that was all that there was, speculation. The Fujiya family tried to stir up a bunch of strife with various unfounded accusations, but they’d always been ready to throw mud at the Shiba family at a moment's notice and their accusations went widely ignored.  
The most popular theory was that the younger brother of the head of the Shiba family had gotten in deep with gambling debts and when he’d killed himself Isshin had sold off the land to the Kuchiki family to get the money to clear the debts. Everyone said he didn’t want his nephew and sister-in-law to have to shoulder such an impossible burden.  
Rangiku ran over all the major theories to Gin, watching his face to see if he might give her a clue, but he didn’t. She considered it deeply unfair that he had clearly served some important purpose for her captain, and must know most if not all of what had happened, and he wouldn’t share. Then he made her feel guilty about trying to guess by saying, “If Isshin wanted you to know he would tell you.”  
That was, in her opinion, a low blow, but she stopped asking Gin for details.


	21. Chapter 21

“Is that your mom?” one of the boys asked as Rangiku approached the children’s party.  
“Yeah,” Toshiro said, looking up as his mother greeted Hisana-sama and began to talk. She always had a lot to say.  
“She’s a shinigami. Your mom’s a shinigami! What rank? My uncle’s the lieutenant of the Second Division.”   
“My mom’s the lieutenant of the Tenth, and my dad’s the lieutenant of the Fifth, but he’s going to become captain of the Third. Captain Aizen promised to recommend him at New Years.”  
“What’s his name? I bet I’ve heard of him,” the boy answered.  
“Ichimaru Gin,” Toshiro answered.  
The other boy’s expression changed entirely. “Your dad is Ichimaru?” he said in shock.  
“Yeah,” Toshiro said, wondering what the big deal was.  
“My uncle says Ichimaru is so creepy everybody does anything they can to stay away from him. My uncle even skipped an assignment to Rukongai cause he was supposed to go alone with Ichimaru, and everyone knows he has connections to the underworld, and he’d probably make my uncle disappear and tell everyone a hollow did it. Cause he always lies, and everybody knows it, but nobody can prove it cause he’s so sneaky.”  
Toshiro’s eyes narrowed. “My dad says the lieutenant from the Second Division is a fat, no talent moron who got his position by trading on his family name, and the only way they can get anything done in the lieutenants meetings is to save the important stuff for after Omaeda falls asleep.”  
Toshiro dodged the taller child’s fist and knocked him to the ground with a swift kick to the ankle, dropping to his knees on the boy’s back to keep him on the ground. “My dad may be creepy, but he’s also smarter, stronger, and better looking than your stupid uncle, and he taught me to protect myself so you’d better--”  
“Toshiro!” Rangiku shrieked, grabbing her son by the arm and jerking him away from the child he’d just knocked to the ground.  
Hisana dropped to the ground beside the other boy, who promptly started crying. “He hit me!” he wailed, pointing at Toshiro. “And I didn’t do anything!”  
Toshiro didn’t even answer. He just gave the other boy a disgusted look.  
“What happened?” Rangiku demanded, turning to Toshiro and grabbing him by both arms to force him to look at her.  
“I knocked him down,” Toshiro answered.  
“Why?”  
“He called my uncle, Lieutenant Omaeda, fat and ugly and stupid,” the boy accused.  
“He did?” Rangiku looked Toshiro in the eye. “When did you ever meet--I mean, why would you say something like that? You know better than to call someone names.”  
Toshiro's eyes dropped. “He said everybody thinks Dad is a liar, and everybody always tries to stay away from him ‘cause he's creepy.”  
“So you called his uncle fat, lazy, and stupid?”  
“I don't know anything about his dad,” Toshiro explained.  
Rangiku burst out laughing. “So you went after his uncle?” she said when she was able to speak. “That's hardly fair. Insulting Omaeda is like shooting fish in a barrel. It's not sporting.”  
“Rangiku!” Hisana said.  
Rangiku choked back her laughter and did her best to force a serious expression to her face. “Shiro-chan, you know better than to insult someone’s family. You need to apologize.”  
“You too, Toru-kun,” Hisana said, brushing the dirt from the boy’s kimono.  
“I’m sorry you have such a stupid uncle,” Toshiro said.  
“Toshiro!”  
“I am. I would hate to have such a--”  
“That’s enough!”  
“You’re a demon child! You’re a curse on your whole family, and your dad is too! You white-haired demon--”  
“Toru!” Hisana snapped. “That is a horrible, shameful thing to say. I am taking you to your mother right now. You will have to tell her what an awful thing you said.”  
Rangiku watched Hisana drag the boy back to the house, and she saw how the other children, who had gathered to watch the fight, were now watching Toshiro warily, and she realized that even here, among the nobility of Soul Society, that stupid belief still lingered, that a child born with white hair was demonic and would bring disaster upon everyone he touched.  
She stood up swiftly and grabbed Toshiro’s hand. “We’re going home.”  
For a few minutes Toshiro walked beside her in silence, but eventually he spoke. “Am I a demon child?” he asked. “Is that why I’m different from everyone?”  
“Don’t be silly,” Rangiku said, speeding up her steps. “That was a stupid little boy who was just trying to hurt you. Just like you were trying to hurt him, calling his uncle names.”  
Toshiro was quiet for a moment. Then he added, “Everything I said about Omaeda was true.”  
“So you think everything he said was true, too? You think your father’s a liar and everybody’s afraid of him?”  
“Maybe not everyone,” Toshiro granted after a moment’s thought.  
“Shiro, your father is supported by Captain Aizen, one of the most respected men in all of the Gotei, as well as five other captains, to be put forward as the next captain of the Third Division. He is very respected throughout the Gotei. Do you think that would be the case if anyone thought he was a liar? And the only people who are afraid of him are cowards like Omaeda, who try to avoid ever fighting, and that’s because your father isn’t afraid to call them out on it.”  
Toshiro didn’t answer, and after a few minutes Rangiku sighed. “When I met Gin, he was just a little boy like you. He gave me some food because he saw I was starving, and let me live in a little falling-down shed with him because I had nowhere else to go. He would never say where he came from, but I think he’d run away from his family, probably because they were just like that stupid little boy today and thought he was cursed because of his silver hair and blue eyes.  
“People were cruel in Rukongai, not just little kids, but adults would call him names and sometimes throw things at him, and some people would shove him or kick him just because they could. He got really good at sneaking around so people wouldn’t notice him, and I think he stole most of the food he brought home, but there wasn’t really a choice. No one would give him a job, and he was afraid if I went out alone and tried to get work bad men might hurt me.  
“It was a very hard life, Shiro-chan, and your father protected me all the time. And no matter what happened, no matter how bad they hurt him, he’d just smile at me and tell me everything was ok.  
“You have no idea how happy he is that people are different here, and you will never have to go through what he did. No shinigami would ever call you cursed because of your hair color. If they ever did think like that then Captain Ukitake must have changed their minds centuries ago. How could anyone believe he was a demon? He’s the kindest shinigami who ever lived.  
“People barely even notice your hair color. Sometimes someone will say you take after your father, but mostly they just tell me you’re the cutest little boy they’ve ever seen.”  
“I’m not cute,” Toshiro said.  
“Of course you are,” she teased. “And when you grow up you are going to be so handsome every girl in Soul Society will fall madly in love with you.”  
“Stop it.”  
“You will be careful only to pick a girl your mommy likes, won’t you, Shiro-chan?”   
“I’m never getting married. I’ll be like Captain Aizen. He doesn’t need any girls around telling him what to do. He’s a strong captain, and everybody wants to be in his division, but he only takes the best, and he teaches them to be even better ‘cause that’s the kind of captain he is. I’ll bet dad won’t even care what kind of people join his division. He’ll probably let anyone in.”  
Rangiku shrugged. “You may be right, there. He’s going to be a very different sort of captain from Captain Aizen, but I don’t think he’ll be a bad one, just different. That’s the nicest thing about the Gotei; different isn’t bad.”  
“I guess so,” Toshiro agreed a little reluctantly.


	22. Chapter 22

“Where’s Toshiro?” Gin asked as he stepped in the front door to find Rangiku sitting at the table with an actual home-cooked meal spread out for the two of them.  
“Captain Ukitake has about thirty nieces and nephews visiting for the week, and they offered to take Shiro-chan with them while they went to watch the meteor shower tonight. They'll bring him back in the morning.”  
“It’s just you and me--all night?”  
“Yep.”  
“What’s the catch?” Rangiku had a tendency to find people to watch their son for extended lengths of time when she wanted something from Gin. Once it was just to drag him to every bar in Seireitei, another time it was a vacation in the World of the Living; there was no predicting her.  
“There’s no catch. I just heard that Captain Ukitake’s entire family is in town--they’re celebrating his parents five hundredth anniversary or something and because he isn’t feeling very well everyone came here, and he has eight younger brothers and sisters, and at least half of them have children, and probably half of them have children too, so there must be just herds of them, and I didn’t think one more child would make much of a difference, so I asked, and Captain Ukitake said Shiro-chan was welcome to come as long as he didn’t mind a crowd.”  
Gin looked at her even more doubtfully. That sounded a hell of a lot like an excuse. She definitely had something planned. But he might as well enjoy it while he could, so he sat down to the rarity of an actual Ran-chan cooked meal.  
“It’s nice when there are other children around for Shiro-chan to play with, don’t you think?” Rangiku said after a bite or two of over-cooked fish.  
Gin shrugged, unwilling to commit himself to any opinion at this juncture.  
“He’s too serious all the time. I think he almost forgets he is just a child. I don’t want him to grow up too fast like we did. We need to make sure he spends time with other kids, just playing and having fun. It’s important.”  
Gin shoved a large scoop of undercooked rice into his mouth when she looked at him. Clearly, he couldn’t answer.  
Rangiku frowned. That was cheating, and he knew it. Rangiku dropped her eyes to her watery miso soup, and she wished she’d just dragged Gin out to dinner. “It’s important to have other kids around, not just friends, but maybe a brother or a sister too.”  
Gin dropped his chopsticks. “Are you wanting to adopt?” he asked after a moment.  
“Gin, I want another baby,” Rangiku said, leaning forward and trying to meet his eyes. “When you’re a captain we’ll have plenty of money and space, and it will be so much better than last time. I’ll do everything right and keep myself really healthy. And it’ll be fun! Instead of everyone trying to pretend they don’t notice they’ll all be happy for us, and--”  
“You hated being pregnant,” Gin reminded her.  
“But I wouldn’t this time. This time it would be on purpose. I could have so much fun getting ready, and think of Shiro-chan. He’s so lonely. He shouldn’t have to be all alone like that. He needs a little brother or a sister or maybe both,” she added grinning hugely.  
Gin’s eyes widened. “How many children do you want?”  
“I don’t know. We did such a good job on the first one we ought to make as many more as we can, don’t you think? Even your captain said so. He said Shiro-chan was such an amazing child that it would be a pity if he was the only one.”  
“Aizen said that?” Gin said softly.  
“You know he would never say it if he didn’t think it. Shiro-chan really is special, Gin. He’s so smart and so talented it scares me sometimes, but I think if he had a little brother or sister who was like him it would be better. He wouldn’t be the only one. Please, let's make another little baby that’s too smart and too talented for its own good.”  
Gin took a deep breath. “Having a baby isn't something you should decide to do on a whim, Ran. We need to take our time and think about it.”  
“I have been thinking about it, for years!” Rangiku declared. “I knew we didn’t have the money so I didn't say anything, but I do want one, I really do, Gin. It’s important to me. Please?”  
Gin raised his head to meet Rangiku’s bright, hope filled eyes. The very idea awoke at least a dozen distinct fears that he’d been fighting to bury since Toshiro’s birth. After all the work he’d put in trying to make Rangiku strong enough to protect herself, she’d become weak again. A pregnant woman was so completely vulnerable, and he couldn’t watch her all the time. Like last time, Aizen would be watching him, trying to judge exactly how much Rangiku meant to him, and how that value could be used, and he would have to do everything he could to show absolutely no concern, to be bored or annoyed by the whole thing. And then there was the birth, as far as he was concerned that had been a night from hell itself. Rangiku suffering, her life in danger, and him absolutely helpless, he’d never spent a worse night. And then, as a reward for all those months of misery, there would be one more completely helpless person to worry about--and what if it was like Toshiro? another child leaking reiatsu everywhere, looking far too tempting to everyone, and more than anyone else to Aizen. It had taken years to get Toshiro to the point that he could walk safely through Seireitei suppressing his own reiatsu. There was no way Gin could manage it again, especially not if he was a captain living inside a division.  
He shook his head. “Don’t you think Isshin will be annoyed if the moment he makes you a lieutenant you go and put yourself out of commission for over a year?”  
Rangiku’s eyes narrowed. “He’s the one who permanently sidelined me,” she answered, sounding very annoyed. “There’s not one part of my job I can’t do pregnant, nursing, or with a baby strapped to my chest.”  
“Is this how you’re punishing us for protecting you?” Gin asked, and immediately knew he’d made a mistake.  
“You think a baby is a punishment?!? What about Shiro-chan? Do you think he was some sort of divine punishment for having loose morals? What about getting married? Was that a punishment too? Is this whole family just--”  
He shut her up the best way he knew how, by kissing her so thoroughly her anger was enveloped by an entirely different sort of passion, and the conversation was put on hold for another time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Gin’s head was cushioned against Rangiku’s breasts, enjoying the gentle rise and fall of her chest with each breath, as he listened to the beating of her heart. Her fingers were running lightly through his hair, showing a careless affection that somehow meant more to him than any impassioned cry or declaration. Possessing her love worried him, because, like she said, it made it possible for him to hurt her. He never, ever wanted to hurt her, and he knew that one day he would hurt her worse than any love could possibly endure. All he wanted was to love her, and all he needed from her was simply to be allowed to love her. A simple gesture like running her fingers through his hair was acceptance without any more weight attached.  
“You really want another baby, don’t you, Ran-chan?” he said softly.  
Her breath caught for an instant. Then she said, “Not if you don’t.”  
“I hadn’t actually thought about it before,” he lied. He’d dreaded the possibility since Toshiro’s birth, the hell of another pregnancy and birth, the burden of yet another innocent soul at risk because of him. “It might be fun. Shiro will be annoyed when he realizes he has to share you, though.”  
Rangiku laughed. “It’ll be good for him,” she said. “He’s starting to get spoiled. He needs to learn he isn’t the only person in the universe who matters.”  
“When you put it that way I’m all for it.”  
Rangiku sat up, dislodging Gin from his perfect pillow. “Really?” she asked.  
“Sure,” he agreed.  
A huge smile spread across her face. “I’ll talk to Unohana. I’ll get all the barriers in place before I stop the kido just to make sure the baby’s completely protected. I will be so much more careful this time, I promise.”  
“Poor Shiro,” Gin said, grinning. “You make it sound like he was the practice baby.”  
“I can’t help it!” Rangiku protested. “I didn’t know anything then!!”  
“I'm joking! Just joking! You have been the best mother any kid could ever have. Shiro adores you, and you know how picky he is. I’m never going to win him over. He thinks feeding me is awful generous on your part.”  
Rangiku burst out laughing. “He really does!”


	23. Chapter 23

Gin made captain of the Third Division at New Year’s as expected, and the family moved into a large house behind the division offices that was designated captain’s quarters. It was a separate house of traditional style set back behind the Division’s main buildings. It had a beautiful entry, a huge kitchen, and six unfurnished rooms as well as an office that was furnished in the western style. As far as Rangiku was concerned they might as well have been moving into a palace.  
She had Miyako and Hisana over immediately to try to help her figure out how she was supposed to furnish such an enormous space. Gin’s suggestion that they put the kotatsu in one room, sleep in the next and ignore all the rest didn’t seem quite right. Besides they had a furnishing allowance. It was money free and clear for her to spend, and there was no way she wasn’t going to use every last penny.  
Miyako and Hisana were understandably less impressed by the space than Rangiku was, but she was so enthusiastic that they were soon enjoying themselves as well.  
Miyako noticed the room beside the office also had a wooden floor instead of tatami and suggested Rangiku make it into Toshiro’s room. “You could put in one of those western beds, a bunk bed,” she declared, “And he could have his own bookcase and little desk.”  
“His own room?” Rangiku said, coming to an abrupt stop. In Rukongai families shared a room, even on the occasion when they had more than one. It was hard enough to keep one room heated in winter. Why would you spread the family out so they couldn’t even shared the warmth of everyone’s body heat? It didn’t make sense. Did rich people do that?  
“Shiro is getting older,” Hisana agreed. “And he’s so independent these days. He used to follow right behind you all the time just like a little duckling, don’t you remember? And now he’s run off to explore the garden all by himself. He looks so small, but he’s really not, is he?”  
“No’” Rangiku agreed, and suddenly she felt quite overwhelmingly sad. Her baby was growing up. He was probably already halfway to the Academy, even closer if he went as young as she and Gin had. If he was like Gin, it would be hardly any time at all until he was out fighting hollows.  
Tears welled up in her gray eyes, tears she just couldn’t stop. It was just so wrong, thinking of her little boy, all grown up and fighting and killing everyday just to stay alive.  
“Rangiku, what’s wrong?” Hisana said. “Did I say something wrong?”  
“No,” Rangiku answered, shaking her head and wiping the tears away with the back of her hand. “I’m just getting teary a lot lately. Ask Gin, I practically bawled when the squad turned out to welcomed us here.”  
Miyako’s eyes narrowed. “You haven’t been eating much lately either,” she pointed out.  
Rangiku turned to her other friend. “Because everything’s been making me--” she broke off, blushing.  
“I think I told you this last time, Rangiku-chan,” Miyako said, frowning. “It’s not nice to lie to your friends.”  
“I’m not lying!” Rangiku defended. “I’m not! I--I don’t know yet, not for sure. I’m going to Unohana tomorrow. Once she confirmed it I was going to tell everyone, I promise.”  
Miyako’s frown shifted almost instantly into a grin. “Is it another mistake?” she couldn’t resist asking.  
“No, of course not,” Rangiku protested, placing her hands protectively over her abdomen. “We always wanted more than one. We just couldn’t afford it till now.”  
“You’re pregnant?” Hisana said.  
Rangiku turned worried eyes to Hisana. She wasn’t sure how the other woman was going to take the news and had planned to tell her much more carefully. It had been awhile since the miscarriage, but she wasn’t sure how well Hisana had gotten over it. They hadn’t talked about it again, and there had been no signs Hisana was considering adopting instead, but she seemed mostly alright. “Probably, I am,” she admitted, softly.  
“That’s wonderful, Rangiku,” Hisana answered, a huge smile spreading across her face. “I’m so happy for you!”  
“Thank you,” Rangiku answered, but she couldn’t help feeling like she had somehow betrayed her friend.  
“Shiro will love having a little brother or sister to play with!” Miyako said.  
“No, he won’t,” A voice answered from the porch.  
“Shiro-chan!” Rangiku gasped, turning toward the open door.  
He stepped inside, looking a little guilty. “I was going to ask if I can go to the mess hall and see if they’d give me some rice balls to take while I go exploring,” he explained.  
“Go ahead,” Rangiku said a bit helplessly.  
He stood frowning at her for a moment before he asked, “Do we have to have a new baby?”  
“What’s wrong with a new baby?” Rangiku demanded.  
“They’re loud; they smell funny, and they have to be taken care of all of the time. Why would you want one?” he countered.  
“They’re sweet, and it doesn’t take long for them to grow into children. Don’t you think it would be fun to have a little brother or sister? It’s like a built-in friend,” Rangiku said.  
“Couldn’t you just get me a dog?” Toshiro suggested.  
“We’re having a baby!” Rangiku said. She was starting to feel a little annoyed too.  
“I’d rather have a dog.”  
“Well, I’d rather have a baby, and I get to decide because I’m the grownup and you’re the kid!”  
Toshiro looked at her a little sullenly. He hated that argument. Of all the various arguments she used that one was most unfair. It wasn’t his fault he was still a kid, and being a grownup didn’t make her smarter or her opinions more important. “I’ll bet Dad would rather have a dog, too,” he said, as one last parting shot, before taking off once more.  
Rangiku sighed. “I suppose I should have expected that.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro’s feet slapped loudly against the wooden floor as he ran down the Division Three hall toward his father’s office. He’d heard a messenger had arrived from the Kuchiki estate and he wanted to know how Hisana was. She’d fallen ill only a week ago, but he and his mother hadn’t been allowed to visit because everyone was worried about his mother catching whatever was wrong with Hisana too. They said it could be dangerous for the baby that was growing inside her.  
It was just one more point against the expected sibling as far as Toshiro was concerned.  
He shoved open his father’s office door and froze. The messenger was still there and so was Lieutenant Suzuki, but his father was nowhere to be seen.  
“Where’s my dad?” he demanded.  
The lieutenant turned to the boy, sadness and pity in his dark eyes. “The Captain has gone to speak to your mother. You shouldn’t bother them for a while.”  
Toshiro’s eyes narrowed. His father vanished to ‘speak to’ his mother all the time. Usually Suzuki just looked annoyed. This was completely different. “Why?”  
Suzuki walked over to Toshiro and dropped down onto one knee. “I’m very sorry, Toshiro,” he said softly. “Your mother’s friend, Lady Kuchiki, has died.”  
Toshiro stared back at the lieutenant, not quite comprehending what he was saying. He’d met people before, in the Gotei, who had gone out on missions and never come back. Death was a part of life in the shinigami’s world, but he’d never really known them. Hisana-sama was the first, and she wasn't even a shinigami. It wasn’t fair.  
The temperature in the room dropped abruptly. Lieutenant Suzuki realized it when he saw his breath cloud in front of his face. He glanced around. Ice was forming on the windows and creeping out across the floor. The messenger standing near the door looked frightened.  
“Shiro-kun!” he said loudly, grabbing the boy by both arms. “Control yourself!”  
Toshiro’s wide blue eyes focused on the lieutenant. The ice melted and warmth returned to the room. “Why didn’t she just get better?”  
“Sometimes the sickness is too strong, Shiro-kun. It’s like when a shinigami fights a hollow, they do the best they can, but sometimes a shinigami gets into a fight he can’t win no matter how hard he tries. It’s very sad, especially for those who love them. Your mother’s going to be sad for a long time. She and Captain Kuchiki and Shiba Miyako-san are going to need a lot of sympathy and understanding from the rest of us. We’re going to do the best we can to help them, aren’t we?”  
Toshiro nodded. He wanted to argue, to demand to know why Hisana-sama hadn’t fought harder and why no one had helped her. Couldn’t Captain Unohana have saved her? It didn’t seem right that someone could just get sick and die. Then another thought occurred to him. “If my mom gets sick like Hisana-sama will she die too?”  
Lieutenant Suzuki suddenly pulled Toshiro into a tight hug. “Don’t you worry. Nothing is going to happen to your mother. Rangiku-san is one of the strongest women I’ve ever met. She’d never let a fever stop her.”  
Toshiro started crying then. It was horrible to be so small and helpless and to know that there were terrible things out there that could get to anyone and make them sick and make them die. How could you stay safe from such things if even Hisana-sama in her great big house with all her guards and servants and even Captain Kuchiki to watch over her, even she wasn’t safe. How could you keep anyone safe in a world like that?  
And what about his mother? The lieutenant said she was strong, but maybe he was just saying that to make Toshiro feel better. His father was always teasing his mother about how weak she was. He said she was too soft, and she needed to fight harder. He was always saying that. He was always saying she wasn’t strong enough.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku did not do well with losing her friend. It was so unexpected and the fact that she hadn’t even been able to see her tore at her. She was a complete mess of emotions, pregnancy hormones mixed with guilt and grief, and she found herself crying several times a day.  
It wasn’t good for Toshiro. He didn’t need to see his mother falling apart. She sent him with his father, and he spent the days following the captain around. He would read while his father did paperwork or go wander the back gardens of the division alone, and he would join squad drills every day. Some of the nicer squad members would even spar with him. They were surprised to find that, even if he wasn’t nearly so strong, he was just as fast and easily as good at handling a sword as any of the recent Academy graduates.   
So Toshiro began a new routine with Division Three instead of Ten. He wasn’t getting any closer to his father, though he was seeing that Gin was just as detached and casually cruel in his teasing to everyone else as he was to Toshiro, but everyone else was really nice. It was probably because his dad was their boss, and they hoped that being nice to him would win points with his dad, but he didn’t care. It was even more fun than Ten had been. The men of Division Three hadn't gotten used to him when he was small and helpless. He was able to show them what he could do and earn their respect.  
The one thing Gin insisted Toshiro keep just between the two of them was his kido training. He was allowed to watch the others practice, but, as Gin had said the first time he brought him along, “Shiro-chan’s just a kid. It’ll be years before he can show that kind of reiatsu control.” Toshiro didn’t even try to argue.   
That had always been the rule. He was never to show anyone, not even his mother, the things he could do. He still lived in fear that the Gotei would want to make him a shinigami, and they wouldn’t let him stay with his parents anymore. They did things like that, his father said, and he had told Toshiro stories of children in Rukongai being taken when their reiatsu was discovered.  
That training never stopped. No matter how busy things were in the Third Division or how crazy Rangiku was being, Gin always found time to drag Toshiro out to a secluded corner of the division gardens to practice.  
One day in early July, only a month before the new baby was expected, Gin declared it far too hot, and told Rangiku he would take Toshiro out to Northern Rukongai, into the mountains, where people said it stayed cool even in the summer. Rangiku wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but it was only three days, and Shiro-chan always looked so miserable when it got hot, so she got Nanao to stay with her and wished them the best of luck.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro folded his arms across his chest and glared at his father, as Gin happily went about setting up the camp on his own. “Ah, it is nice to get away from the city,” Gin declared, talking to himself as Toshiro clearly had no interest in listening. “I can’t remember the last time--well, when it wasn’t for work, anyway. Seems like it’s been years since I really took the time to enjoy nature.”  
“Are you going to tell me why we’re here?” the boy demanded, finally getting sick of his father’s monologue.  
“You’re going to see if you can reach your zanpakuto. It’s been trying to speak to you your whole life; it’s about time you tried to answer.”  
Toshiro’s eyes widened. “My zanpakuto?” he said. “Wouldn’t that make me a shinigami?”  
“What the Gotei doesn’t know won’t hurt them,” was Gin’s smiling reply.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Days of meditating and nights of meditating, Toshiro spent the entirety of two days and three nights communing with his inner world. Gin had watched him the entire time. He’d even forced water down the boy’s throat a few times. He was completely lost in a trance. Gin was starting to get worried. It really was time for them to be getting back to Seireitei. Rangiku was going to be ticked if they were late because he couldn’t pull their son out of a trance.  
Then, just as he was wondering if he could carry Toshiro back and put him straight to bed without Rangiku noticing, the boy’s eyes opened. “Hyorinmaru!” he called out and an icy katana formed in his outstretched hand.  
Gin jumped to his feet and picked up the boy, despite the obviously deadly weapon he was holding, and shouted, “You did it! You, my son, are the youngest person in all the history of Soul Society to manifest a zanpakuto!”  
Toshiro blinked at his father in surprise. Gin looked genuinely proud--of him. He had never imagined that could ever happen.  
A slow smile spread across his face. “Hyorinmaru is an ice dragon,” he told Gin.  
“An ice dragon?” Gin repeated, setting the boy down. “I’m not surprised.”  
“He’s amazing and beautiful and powerful,” Toshiro told him.  
“He’s yours. He’s a part of you, Toshiro. You are amazing and beautiful and powerful. Someday you will put us all to shame.”  
Toshiro turned the blade in the sunlight, remembering the giant ice dragon that had accepted him as its master. “What is Shinso?”  
Gin glanced down at the boy, and for an instant his expression was searching. “A snake,” he said quickly, then he added, “Oh, would you look at this mess! We are going to have to get to work if we are going to make it home in time!”  
“I didn’t make it,” Toshiro answered, annoyed.  
“Just because you have a fancy, new zanpakuto doesn't mean you can't help your poor old dad out.”  
“You don’t need help. You’re just lazy. You should have packed up this morning.”  
“No respect, even from my own son. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Gin said, and he shook his head.


	24. Chapter 24

Gin stepped through Aizen’s Senkaimon into Soul Society and drew in a deep breath. “It’s good to be back,” he declared, smiling at Tosen’s always serious expression. “Have you noticed how the World of the Living’s really started to smell? I think it must be all the pollution. Why do you think humans keep pouring all those chemicals into the air?”  
Tosen did not even answer him. Instead he turned to Aizen as he stepped through the gate. “Was the Arrancar’s progress as you had hoped?” he asked.  
“Disappointing if you ask me,” Gin said, as he pulled off the reiatsu suppressing cloak. “All this time, and they still can’t take out a captain at a fifth of his power.”  
“Don’t underestimate my Arrancar,” Aizen said, softly. “Once we locate the hogyoku the real experiment will begin. There’s every possibility that it will enable me to create Arrancar a hundred times more powerful than the playthings I have created thus far. It is a unique and extraordinary substance; its power only limited by the strength of its wielder.”  
Gin grinned hugely. “Sounds like fun.” Then his smile faded abruptly. “Damn, is that dawn? I hate the time distortion. Any idea how long we’ve been gone?”  
Light was beginning to grow in the eastern sky, a tinge of yellow against the velvet blue.  
“Seventeen hours,” Aizen told him. “You’d better hurry home. You’re going to be late.”  
“Course I am. Always told her she should’ve married a better man than me,” he smiled again, and said, “Bye-bye,” before vanishing abruptly.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Gin stepped into the room and smiled at the peaceful picture of Rangiku resting against a pile of pillows, her golden hair tumbling down like a halo around her. Toshiro was curled next to her on one side, holding her hand even in his sleep. On her other side, sleeping in the circle of her arm, was a tiny bundle with a little pink face and a crown of smooshed yellow curls.  
Rangiku opened her eyes slowly. She looked tired but content, and she smiled slowly. “I can’t believe you went to work,” she said softly.  
“Toshiro took all night,” he said, knowing it was a weak argument. He’d told her he was going to check out rumors of an unusual hollow in West Rukongai nearly eighteen hours ago. Unohana had even tried to stop him, telling him she thought this birth would be faster than the last, but he had ignored her warning. No, he’d gone because Aizen asked, and there was no other choice. But there was no defending it; he was an awful husband.  
But Rangiku wasn’t even annoyed with him. She smiled hugely and asked, “Did you get your hollow?”  
He shook his head. “No luck.”  
“Then why don’t you come say hello to your new son?”  
Gin crossed the room and sat down on the tatami beside the crowded futon. He smiled at the golden-haired infant. He looked so normal. He had none of Toshiro’s strange coloring; he was the splotchy pink of a proper new baby, and he had almost no reiatsu at all, just enough not to be mistaken for someone else's baby.   
“Seems pretty good,” Gin said, touching one of the baby’s cheeks. It was a perfectly normal temperature. “What are we calling him?”  
“Pretty good? I’ll have you know I spent nine months working on this little guy,” Rangiku declared in a fake defensive tone.  
“He’s perfect, Ran,” Gin said. “Absolutely beautiful.”  
She smiled hugely. “I know. I did everything right this time, didn’t I?”  
“The first one turned out pretty good too.”  
“I know that! Shiro-chan’s perfect and Kin-chan’s perfect. We have an absolutely perfect family!”  
“Kin-chan?”  
“Kinta, because of his gold hair. Don’t you think it’s perfect?”  
“Yes, Ran, it is. Everything is perfect,” Gin answered, and he meant it. If he could somehow have made this image of his life reality he would have. If he could simply have erased all the lies and schemes and games he would have, but that wasn't a chance anyone got. And even with all the darkness that was constantly creeping around the edges of his life, he really was happier than he'd ever expected he could be.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“What do you mean, Isshin’s missing?” Rangiku demanded, startling the baby at her breast. Kinta whimpered and flailed about, more angry than frightened by his mother’s sudden shout. “Oh, hush!” she exclaimed, too upset to try to calm him properly. Her voice was more pleading than calming. “Kinta, you’re fine.”  
“That’s all I’ve heard,” Miyako told her over the sound of the crying infant. “Please try to stay calm, Rangiku-chan. There’s no reason to believe he’s anything but fine, wherever he’s gotten to. You know the captain; he’s as likely to have decided to take a vacation as anything else.”  
“I know, I know,” Rangiku agreed, finally managing to calm herself down enough to convince the baby to return to his meal. “I just--I don’t like it,” she said softly, focusing on Kinta’s precious face to calm herself. “He shouldn't have been there alone. I should have--”  
“He wouldn’t have taken you even if you weren’t off on leave, so don’t start feeling guilty. Whatever’s happened, it’s not your fault.”  
“Who do they have looking for him?” Rangiku asked.  
Miyako paled. “They don’t--it’s not that--I’m sure they will send someone eventually.”  
“They’re not sending anyone!” Rangiku hissed, forcing herself not to upset Kinta again.  
“The thing is no one’s sure what happened, and if he was hurt they don’t want to send anyone who might not be strong enough to deal with--”  
“Shiro,” Rangiku said, stopping Miyako’s explanation abruptly.  
Toshiro raised his head from the book he’d been studying. He frowned, seeing how worked up his mother was. He wasn’t going to tell her about Captain Isshin going missing. He thought his father had called that one right for once. She’d been sad and depressed since Hisana-sama’s death, and Kinta was just making her more tired and emotional. “What?” he asked, finally.  
“Go tell your daddy I want to talk to him now,” she said.  
The boy nodded and hopped off the porch, running toward his father’s office. He was pretty sure his father was gonna get it this time for keeping everything that had happened from his mother. It seemed like it was about time. His father was getting away with keeping way too many secrets.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“You shouldn’t be mad at Gin for not telling you,” Miyako said. “I’m sure he was only waiting until they knew something concrete. He didn’t want to upset you unnecessarily.”  
“SInce when do you defend Gin?” Rangiku demanded.  
“Sometimes he keeps things from you to protect you. Because he cares about you. We’ve all been worried about you,” Miyako answered.  
“I know,” Rangiku said, shaking her head to clear away those unhappy thoughts. “I’m not mad at him. I want him to do something for me.”  
“And what’s that, Ran?” Gin asked. He was standing on the porch, leaning calmly against the open door, like he’d been standing there the whole time. She really hated when he did that. “Your wish is my command,” he added with a nod of his head.  
“Find my captain,” she said.  
Gin’s eyes widened. “You want me to find Isshin?”  
“Rangiku-chan, it could be dangerous,” Miyako protested. “What if something did attack Captain Isshin, and it’s still there?”  
Rangiku’s eyes met Gin’s. “You could do it, couldn’t you? Check the entire area without being noticed by anyone. It’s what you’re best at.”  
Gin smiled and any real emotion vanished from his face. “Of course I can,” he declared lightly.  
“I have to know,” Rangiku pleaded with him to understand. “I can’t lose someone else, not like this, not when there’s a chance. I’m sorry. I--” Her eyes were beginning to fill with tears. “Gin, I can’t lose you. I shouldn’t even ask you. I want to go myself--”  
“Don’t be silly,” Gin interrupted. “You’re terrible at this sort of thing. Even if you were up and about I’d still be the better choice for investigation. When it comes to sneaking about and never being noticed I’m the best there is. Even the Stealth Squad’s jealous of me.”  
Rangiku smiled. “If they aren’t, they should be,” she answered. Then her expression changed. “But if there’s any danger at all you come right back here--immediately. I need you more than I need a thousand captains, ok?”  
“Of course you do,” Gin agreed. “Ran, you’re not worried about me, are you? That’s silly. I did things a lot riskier than this back in Rukongai, and I always made it through fine. I’ll make a quick trip, take a look around, and be back in time for dinner. You won't even have time to worry.”  
“You’re going now?” Rangiku demanded.  
“Yep,” he agreed and vanished.  
“Alright,” Miyako said, staring at the place Gin had stood only moments earlier. “Your husband does have a couple good points--but I still don’t buy that he’s actually a kind person.”  
“That’s because he has to hide it. Everyone would take advantage if they knew,” Rangiku told her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“A-ra!” Urahara Kisuke exclaimed. “Now I have a captain visiting my shop? I haven’t seen this much traffic in decades!”  
Gin raised his head, smiling pleasantly. Urahara was impressively gifted at playing ignorant. He had no doubt that Urahara knew more of what was going on in the World of the Living than anyone. He doubted Urahara had missed the Arrancar attacks and very likely had already connected them to Aizen--and through Aizen to himself. The likelihood of Urahara giving him any information on Isshin, knowing that, was slim to nil--unless the man hadn’t made it after all. Urahara might be willing to give him a clue to find a body to bury; surely that would just be good manners.   
“Was Shiba Isshin one of your recent customers?” Gin asked.  
“Could have been,” Urahara said, making a show of thinking it over, scratching the back of his neck and tapping his fan against his hand. “I really can’t remember. There have been so many shinigami passing through lately, and not just the usual local lot, there’ve been all sorts, even students.  
“What makes you ask, Captain Ichimaru? I don’t believe I’ve seen you in the World of the Living for a decade at least.”  
“Captain Isshin has gone missing,” Gin said. “And I’ve been sent to look for him.”  
“They sent you? Since when does the Gotei send captains after missing persons?” Urahara asked. “Isn’t that more the work for the Stealth Squad--or the Punishment Force if someone thinks Captain Shiba’s taken an unauthorized vacation?”  
“I think they’re debating that idea in Central 46 at the moment, but my dear wife is worried about her captain and wasn’t willing to wait.”  
“Your wife?” Urahara said, and a huge smile spread across his face. “And how is dear Rangiku-san? She used to be one of my best customers, but I haven’t seen her in ages, not since her promotion. She does send the occasional order, and I send them along when I can--you know, I think I have a box for her somewhere.” Urahara glanced about him and hopped to his feet.  
“Tessai!” he shouted, still looking about, like the box might helpfully appear at any moment. “Do you know what I did with that box for Matsumoto-san, I mean Ichimaru-san, no, Lieutenant Ichimaru; that’s her name now, isn’t it?”  
The shoji door at the back of the store slid open, and Tessai, with his thick arms folded across his chest, frowned down at Urahara. “Do you mean the new manga for Rangiku-chan?” he asked. “You sold it all to the Academy students who were down here last month. You told them it was good human cultural research material, and they would need to understand the inner workings of mechs if they wanted to be able to blend in, in the World of the Living.”  
“Well, the box was taking up a lot of space,” Urahara said, suddenly remembering the wonderfully gullible students. He’d sold them quite a few other products that had been taking up too much space. Young souls were such wonderful customers.  
He turned back to Gin, holding his fan in front of his mouth to hide his smile. “I am afraid that due to a mistake in labeling I’ve sold your wife’s order. Do let me send her some chocolate to make up for it.”  
Gin continued to smile. “I’m sure she would love some chocolate. I should probably buy your entire store out. She's always starving when she’s nursing.”  
“Does that mean the new Ichimaru has arrived?” Urahara asked, looking really interested for the first time.  
“Another boy,” Gin answered, smiling and pulling out a picture. Because so few shinigami ever had children, they always seemed to be fascinated by his family. And of course everyone loved Rangiku anyway, so they were always asking about her, but he still found it odd. Many people, even the General, who would never speak to him otherwise, approached him for news about Shiro and now the new baby too. “His name is Kinta. He was born last Thursday night, the same night Captain Isshin disappeared.”  
Tessai snatched the photo from his hand because Urahara was a second late. He had been distracted by what Gin had said. The baby had been born the same night Isshin disappeared.  
He regained his composure almost instantly and pulled the picture away from Tessai. “Oh, look how happy dear Rangiku-san looks, and Shiro-chan, he’s not too happy, is he? Aren’t children funny? They don’t like the idea of sharing their parents. I bet it was quite the task keeping him busy when the new baby was coming; he wouldn’t appreciate being kept away from his mother.”  
“I’m sure Miyako spoiled him so thoroughly he forgot all about Ran,” Gin answered. “I’m really concerned that when Miyako finally decides to have a child of her own she’s going to stop borrowing mine. It’s ever so handy having someone who actually wants to spend time with him. So much easier than convincing him to cooperate with Lieutenant Suzuki all day, and Suzuki’s almost as whiny as Shiro is. Seems to think babysitting isn't part of a lieutenant’s job. Odd, isn't it?”  
“Lieutenant Suzuki has always been very serious about his work,” Urahara said.  
“I know,” Gin sighed, as though being serious about one’s work was an enormous character flaw. “I’ve no doubt he’ll abandon me the first chance he gets, and I’ll have to train my own lieutenant, and who wants to go to all that trouble?”  
Urahara nodded in sympathy. It did indeed sound like a lot of work, and he was no more of a fan of that than Gin was.  
Tessai spoke up suddenly. “I will wrap a box of chocolates for Lieutenant Ichimaru,” he announced and stepped down into the shop itself.  
“Oh, that reminds me, Tessai! Did Captain Shiba Isshin drop in at all in the last--when would it be?” he asked, turning back to Gin.  
“Any time since last Thursday,” Gin said, though by now he was certain Urahara had no intention of telling him anything, which probably meant Isshin was still alive, and Urahara was likely hiding him somewhere. The big question was why. Surely if he was able he’d return to Soul Society. Was he hiding from Aizen? But he couldn’t even know about Aizen, so why?  
“Captain Isshin?” Tessai said as he wrapped up a large box of chocolate bars in red and gold patterned paper. “I don’t think so, boss. I haven’t seen any captains here since Captain Kyoraku and his lieutenant came for a New Year's visit.”  
“That was very nice of them,” Urahara said, pleasantly. “Though he did drink all that brandy we’d gotten. It’s nice to know there are no hard feelings; most of Seireitei isn’t nearly so understanding.”  
Urahara turned back to Gin. “Did you know it was thirty years before they stopped sending the Punishment Force after me? It was terrible for business. I kept having to disappear, and some of them would wreck the shop, but we’ve negotiated a nice comfortable exile now, and I suppose everyone’s happy.”  
Gin couldn’t imagine being comfortable in exile. The World of the Living was nice to visit, but the idea of living there permanently was horrifying, even if it was at the top of the list for escape plans that had no chance of working anyway. He sighed and said, “I suppose I will have to go look around a bit, but I haven’t much hope. A captain should stand out like a sore thumb in the World of the Living. He’s probably lying dead somewhere in a ditch or something. I hate to have to tell Ran.”  
Urahara frowned. “Poor Lieutenant Ichimaru. She’s had a difficult year, hasn’t she?”  
Gin shrugged. “She’ll get over it eventually. She always does. It’s probably just the baby that’s made her so weepy recently.”  
He liked that it bothered Urahara to know that Rangiku was unhappy. He should feel bad, not giving her captain back to her. He might have a good reason for hiding Isshin, but it seemed more likely to Gin that Urahara was like Aizen, always planning a dozen steps ahead and not overly concerned with what happened to all the little people he manipulated to serve his purposes. Aizen had once said that Urahara was his most dangerous enemy, and Gin believed it. But brilliant as Urahara was, he still had one weakness, he couldn't quite stop caring about the people he hurt.  
“Give her and little Shiro-chan our love, and let Lieutenant Ichimaru know that I will get a new order together as soon as possible and send it to her with the local shinigami,” Urahara said. “And we do hope she enjoys the chocolate.”  
There was nothing to find in Karakura, and Gin spent a painfully long time looking. The longer he looked the more frustrated and determined he got. A captain could not simply disappear. It wasn’t possible. Even if Isshin had died, his body should leave a reiatsu signature that would slowly fade over time. And if he was hiding within some sort of reishi barrier there should be some sign of the barrier itself, but there was nothing. The people of the town were unexceptional; beyond a singular Quincy, there weren’t even any humans who could see a shinigami, much less help one hide. The only place Isshin could be hiding, Gin finally decided, was in Urahara’s own home. The place was such a mess of seals and barriers and random bits of reishi that he couldn’t make heads or tails of most of it.  
In the end he had to give up. He would tell Aizen what he guessed, and he would tell Rangiku her captain was dead. It would be better if she just mourned him than living in constant hope and fear and never knowing what had happened. He’d report to the General as well. Whatever had happened to Isshin, Ten needed a new captain. Rangiku couldn’t be expected to run the division indefinitely, and Gin knew he’d feel better if there was a strong captain to keep an eye on his impressively foolhardy wife.


	25. Chapter 25

Kinta was only a week old when Rangiku received a guest she had never expected. Kuchiki Byakuya stood in her doorway with a small package in his hand, looking very uncomfortable. Toshiro had let the captain in and brought him to see his mother, as instructed, but when they reached the room he went to stand beside Rangiku. He didn’t look like he was hiding from Byakuya, however, he looked more like he was standing guard over Rangiku and her sleeping baby.  
“Captain Kuchiki,” Rangiku said in surprise. “How kind of you to come.”  
He nodded slightly and stepped forward. His eyes were so cold. It was only when Rangiku was around Kuchiki that she had any understanding of how others felt with Gin. He was completely unreadable, like there was nothing but a wall behind those icy eyes.  
He held out the package, and for a moment his eyes lingered on the red patterned silk the box was wrapped in. “Hisana made this,” he said slowly. His eyes went to her face and for an instant Rangiku thought she might have caught a glimpse of his pain in the depths of his eyes, but it was gone before she could be sure she wasn’t just imagining it. “For you, for the new baby,” he added, holding the package out to her.  
Rangiku forced a smile to her face as she took it, but she knew she hadn’t succeeded in hiding the sadness that was still too fresh. “Thank you, Captain, for this. You needn’t have brought it yourself. I would have understood if you sent it.”  
“Hisana would have come to congratulate you, and to see the child.” His eyes dropped to the golden-haired infant for less than a second. “She wanted you to know how happy she was for you. She worried you might think she was jealous, but she wanted you to know she felt nothing but joy for you, her dear friend, in all of your happiness.”  
She couldn’t stop the tears that spilled down her cheeks. Poor, sweet Hisana! “It’s not fair,” she whispered.  
Kuchiki did not respond except to step back. He looked at Rangiku a moment longer as though he was considering saying something more, but instead he nodded and turned away, leaving the room without saying another word.  
Rangiku stared after him, fighting hard against the urge to start bawling. Hisana had been gone for four months, and it still hurt like she’d died yesterday. She had so many regrets. What an awful friend she’d been; she hadn’t thought once about Hisana while she was sick, except to think it was annoying. Surely a good friend would have worried, would have realized--  
“Are you going to open it?” Toshiro asked, interrupting his mother’s dark thoughts.  
Rangiku looked up, meeting Toshiro’s worried eyes. She forced a smile to her face. “Of course,” she said, as cheerfully as she could. “Wasn’t it kind of Captain Kuchiki to bring it himself?” she said as she untied the knot that bound the fabric and lifted the lid from the small wooden box.  
A real smile lit up her face when she saw the gift, a tiny kimono of her favorite pink. It was trimmed with a design of colorful children’s toys, pinwheels and tops and striped balls, all beautifully and perfectly embroidered. Toshiro had refused to wear pink for years, but now she could dress Kinta in her favorite color.  
“He’s going to look like a girl,” Toshiro declared as Rangiku lifted the tiny garment.  
“He’s a baby,” Rangiku answered. “It doesn’t matter, and, anyway, not everyone looks like a girl just because they’re wearing pink. You’re just so pretty already that if you add anything cute at all it pushes you over the edge. You should grow your hair out. Then we could dress you up and trick people into thinking you really are a girl. Wouldn’t that be fun?”  
Toshiro glared at her. “No.”  
“You really aren’t much fun sometimes, did you know that?” Rangiku informed him.  
“What sort of a mom wants to turn her son into a cross-dresser?” Toshiro answered.  
“Not a cross-dresser, just once in a while for the fun of it,” Rangiku informed him. “I always wanted to dress up as a boy and see if people treated me differently, but your daddy wouldn’t let me. He said I was too pretty, even before I had much of a figure, but I guess he wouldn’t pass for a girl either so it was fair.”  
Her expression became thoughtful as she remembered that long ago childhood. It had been so hard, but there had been good things about it. She wouldn’t change it, she realized, even if she could somehow go back in time. It had been important.  
Toshiro just shook his head. There were some times when he was quite certain his mother was not sane. This had to be one of them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Aizen sat at his low desk, slowly writing with a fine brush and ink, and behind him Gin sat and fidgeted as he tried to wait for his former captain to complete his work.  
He noticed a loose thread in his hakama cuff and started tugging at it. He told himself he'd send it in to be repaired when he got back to the Third, but for now it was just irritating enough to be distracting.  
He had almost entirely unstitched the hem before Aizen turned around. “We have a very promising group of students at the Academy now,” he told Gin.  
Gin looked up, abruptly. “Do we? That’s nice,” he said, quickly, hoping he hadn’t missed anything important.  
“You met them as well in that little exercise gone wrong,” Aizen reminded him.  
“Oh, Zu-zu and those two others, the red-head and the little girl? They did seem pretty good for First Years,” Gin said. “The little girl liked you; didn’t even notice me, though, bit rude.”  
Aizen smiled at Gin’s annoyance. If he didn’t know better he might believe Gin didn’t like being overlooked. “I think they will prove useful. I have selected all three for entrance to my division, and after I have had more time to get to know them I will assign them to suit their skills.”  
“Zu-zu will be Division Four. It’s in his blood,” Gin said. “Looked like he might have a thing for the little girl too. That could be fun.”  
“Fun?” Aizen repeated.  
“Young love is always amusing,” Gin said. “I'm sure I can make him quite miserable while being very supportive. Ah, the joy of being a confidante!”  
“Please try to remember not everything is about your entertainment. The boy’s attachment to Hinamori may be useful but not if you systematically crush it,” Aizen said, seriously. “I expect she will do for my new lieutenant, and one of the boys should be adequate to replace Suzuki within the next few years, if my estimation of their skills is correct.”  
“Suzuki’s going to need replacing?” Gin asked, a smile spreading across his lips.   
“My next Arrancar will soon need testing. It should be simple enough to align with a Third Division mission to Rukongai. Suzuki and a small team should be adequate. Did you say he had achieved bankai?”  
Gin’s smile did not even flicker at the idea of the slaughter of an entire team of his own men. “Nope,” he answered. “And it doesn’t sound like he ever will.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

It was nearly four in the morning when Gin finally made it home. He stared down at his family sleeping so peacefully. Rangiku slept on her side like she always did, and Kinta was asleep curled next to his mother. Shiro was asleep on his futon right next to them, despite all his declarations that he was old enough to have his own room.   
There was an empty futon on Rangiku’s other side, the blanket folded down and his sleeping kimono laid out on the pillow. She never forgot, even if he’d been gone for days. There was always a place ready for him.  
She was such perfection. He wondered, as he always did when he came home from these missions for Aizen, why she was still here. She was so beautiful, not just physically, which she was, even if she constantly complained about baby fat that would never go away, she was so beautiful he was honestly surprised when other men weren’t distracted by her, but her soul was far more beautiful. She was everything kind and good and loving. She brought joy into every life she touched.  
And she was with him. Her gift for seeing the best in everyone had somehow brought her to him. She had seen something in him no one else ever had, a value he still didn’t understand, and knew he didn't deserve. He was a monster. He couldn’t even remember how many people he had killed with his own hands or had simply watched die when he could easily have saved them. He couldn’t remember when it had stopped hurting, when they had stopped being people and just become obstacles to be removed. This very night he had agreed to the murder of his men, including his lieutenant, who was a good man, a man Gin liked and even respected, and he hadn’t even flinched at the idea. It was necessary, and he would do it. He no longer even questioned himself.  
He had destroyed his own soul, and he didn’t even care. It was worth it, everything was worth it if he kept her safe. One day she would know what he had done, and she would hate him for it, but even that did not matter, as long as she survived.  
He stepped silently into the room and changed just as silently. He had long ago learned that he’d rather fight any number of hollows than wake a sleeping baby. It was a capital offense in Rangiku’s book, the only crime he had ever committed that led to him sleeping alone. So he climbed into bed more quietly than was humanly possible and stifled the sigh of relief that finally being home demanded.  
It wasn’t more than a minute later that Rangiku rolled over, and, never opening her eyes, scooted over and molded herself into his side. She mumbled something unintelligible under her breath and fell back to sleep, never having really woken in the first place.  
This was his home, and he would happily die to protect it.


	26. Chapter 26

Gin despised helping, and he didn’t see why he should have to this time. Rangiku was the one who’d wanted another one. Why she’d wanted another noisy, smelly, germ-ridden parasite when Toshiro was finally starting to get interesting was beyond him.  
“He’s dripping something again,” Gin announced as Kinta turned his head and wiped a shiny line of snot across his shihakusho.  
“He has a cold,” Rangiku answered from the depths of the closet. “It won’t kill you.”  
Gin frowned down at the ridiculously angelic-looking baby, who grinned toothlessly back at him. Personally, he preferred Toshiro’s glares. They seemed a lot more honest.  
“Why does he keep smiling at me?” Gin asked, wondering if a six-month-old could mock you.  
“You’re asking why someone smiles at you?” Rangiku demanded, reappearing from the closet with one of many boxes they’d never bothered to unpack. “You smile at him non-stop. He probably thinks you're the happiest person in the world. He's just trying to join in. It’s what babies do.”  
“Shiro never did,” Gin protested, wiping the smile from his own face as he looked down at the baby again. Kinta was still smiling.  
Rangiku sat on the floor and pulled the lid from the box. Inside were piles of photos and fliers and other keepsakes from her time in the Academy. Gin had nothing from that time; honestly, he kept nothing from any time. Keepsakes seemed like an alien concept to him, but Rangiku just didn't get that; she kept everything.  
“Shiro-chan’s like you; he doesn't trust people. Kin-chan’s like me. He figures everyone seems pretty nice so we should all be friends,” Rangiku told him as she dug through the box.  
“What are you looking for?” Gin asked finally.  
“A class photo,” Rangiku pulled a framed picture from the depths of the box. “It's from the entrance ceremony. I thought I’d take Shiro-chan and Kin-chan around to meet all the people we went to school with, but then I realized I couldn't remember half their names, so I thought--” the smile had faded from her face as she spoke, and tears had formed in her eyes as she set down the picture and sat back.  
“What's wrong?” Gin asked, looking at the photo curiously. As some of the youngest, and smallest, kids in their class, he and Rangiku were sitting on the very front row. That had to be the earliest picture anyone had taken of Rangiku. She looked so happy. Her smile was such a contrast to his very fake grin. She glowed. Then as now she was her very own sun.  
“They're all dead,” Rangiku said softly.  
“All of them?” Gin said in surprise, scanning the other faces in the picture. He recognized barely any of them. He’d only been at the Academy a year and only in classes with any of them for a week, before he’d been bumped up to advanced classes and private tutoring. “There's Miyako,” he said finally. “Pretty sure she’s not dead.”  
“And Keiji-kun and Emi-chan in Division 4, but everyone else--” she stretched her fingers across the picture, touching the faces one by one. No wonder she hadn't remembered their names. Most had died in the first decade. She remembered now, hearing about each one, and going to the sakeya again and again, drinking and thinking about other things. She stopped looking up friends from school and started drinking with officers who were less likely to be killed. Not that she ever admitted that to herself. She didn't think about the friends who were dying; she thought about Gin who was avoiding her. She had nagged and harassed and wheedled her way back into his life, while letting every other friend go without a second thought.  
How stupid and selfish she'd been, she still was. She choked back a sob as she remembered Hisana and Isshin. They hadn’t even been gone a year! She wasn't forgetting them, was she? She wasn't going to stuff them in another dusty box in the back of a closet to forget about, so she could just go on with her happy, happy life, was she?  
Gin dropped down beside her and pulled the picture from her hands. “Ran,” he said softly.  
She turned and looked up at him. Tear tracks ran down her face, and she sniffled miserably. “What kind of person am I?” she asked.  
“The kind everyone is lucky to have known, no matter how long they live,” he answered honestly.  
Rangiku threw her arms around him and sobbed. Gin wrapped his free arm around her, and Kinta reached out and patted her shoulder. It was getting better, Gin reminded himself. This had been an almost daily occurrence after Hisana's death and again after they’d lost Isshin. She'd be fine. She always was. There was no reason to worry.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro let Miyako in after the second knock. His mother hadn’t even moved from her place on the couch. She had barely moved from that spot all day. She laid there and watched Kinta play with the growing mountain of toys and clutter that covered the room’s floor. When he got fussy she changed him or fed him or soothed him to sleep, but that was all she did. Since she’d received news of the death of Lieutenant Suzuki and his team she had not moved.  
For the past week Toshiro had fetched breakfast, lunch, and dinner from the division mess hall, and had done what little cleaning had actually happened. He was furious at his father for vanishing once again, even if it was to hunt the hollow responsible for his lieutenant’s death, and he was so relieved when Miyako appeared that he almost cried.  
“How are you doing, Shiro?” Miyako asked, as she stepped out of her sandals and up into the home.  
“I think Mom’s sick,” he answered, looking worried.  
“I think so too,” Miyako agreed. “And I think it’s about time she got some help.”  
She stopped in the doorway, shocked by what she saw. Gin and Rangiku’s style of housekeeping had always left something to be desired, but this was ridiculous. Kinta was wearing nothing but a diaper as he chewed on a wooden spoon, which was fine as it was spring but so unlike Rangiku who had always loved dressing her boys in the finest clothes she could find. Spread around him were toys and books everywhere, mixed with dirty clothes and empty snack boxes from the World of the Living. For the first time Miyako could ever remember, Rangiku, herself, was a mess. She wore no makeup or jewelry, not even the diamond ring Gin had given her years ago, and Miyako had not even known she ever took it off. Rangiku’s hair was dirty and tied back in a sloppy, tangled knot. The kimono she was wearing was stained and wrinkled. In short, she did not look remotely like herself.  
“Where’s your dad?” she asked Toshiro as she stood looking in at her friend. She hoped Gin was somewhere nearby so she could murder him. She could not believe he had allowed it to get this bad.  
“He had to try to find the hollow that killed everyone,” Toshiro answered in a whisper, glancing at his mother in case she had heard him.  
Miyako nodded. She supposed that was a valid excuse for his absence. It was what a captain should do, but still, he should have arranged for some sort of help for his family. Rangiku had just been beginning to pull out of the slump she’d been in since Hisana’s death and Isshin’s disappearance. He should have known she would take these additional deaths hard.  
“Rangiku-chan,” Miyako said, gently, as she stepped into the room. “How are you feeling?”  
Rangiku nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Miyako’s voice. She sat up quickly and straightened her kimono and tried to smooth back her hair. “Hi, Miyako,” she said with forced cheer. “I didn't realize you were here.”  
“How are you feeling?” Miyako asked again.  
“Me? I’m fine. I’m a little worried about Gin out chasing hollows, but he’s always alright, isn’t he?”  
That was when Kinta decided he wasn’t getting enough of the attention that seemed to be going around. The pudgy little thing sat up and waved his arms wildly. “Miya, Miya, Miya!” he shouted.  
Miyako quickly went and picked him up before he decided tears were necessary to get some attention. “Of course, Gin will be alright,” Miyako said, as the baby in her arms tugged at the clip in her hair. “You know how strong he is and how careful. He can take care of himself. You know better than to worry about him.”  
Rangiku shook her head. “Of course,” she said quickly. “It’s just--things don’t seem to be going right recently, do they?”  
“It’s been a hard year for all of us,” Miyako reminded her. She too had lost a good friend, and even though she was now in Thirteen, Isshin had long been her captain too. “But you can’t just give up.”  
“I haven’t--” Rangiku broke off, looking around the room. She swore under her breath as she really took in how bad she’d allowed the mess to get. “I--I just--shit, I’m sorry.” She looked past Miyako to her son who she’d somehow allowed to look after her all week. “I’m sorry, Shiro-chan. I didn’t mean--I’ll do better, ok? I haven’t been feeling well, but I’ll get better, so don’t worry, ok? I’m going to take care of things.”  
Toshiro frowned. “I’m ok,” he told her. “I like helping, and I’m not doing much anyway, so you don’t need to worry about me.”  
Rangiku forced a smile. “I’m really lucky to have such a dependable son to help me out. But it’s about time I got up and did something.”  
“Exactly,” Miyako agreed. “And the first thing you’re going to do is take a bath. I’ll keep an eye on these two and you take your time and relax.”  
“I should take Kinta with me. He hasn’t had a bath in days either,” Rangiku answered.  
“Shoo!” Miyako commanded. “And I don’t want to see you back in here in less than an hour!”  
Rangiku smiled. It was a small smile, but it was real. “Alright, but only because I’ve had him with me every minute of the past seven days, and an hour by myself sounds like heaven,” she said as she slowly stood up.  
“Even mommies deserve a break,” Miyako told her as she hurried her friend across the hall. “At least an hour!” she reminded Rangiku as she closed the door behind her.  
Then she looked down at Toshiro and smiled. “You really have been doing a good job, Shiro-chan, but I bet you deserve a break too, so why don’t you go and do whatever you want for a while, ok?”  
“Don’t you want me to help clean up?” he asked, looking back at the mess.  
Miyako shook her head. “Nope, I’ve got a better idea for that.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

The members of the Third Division were more than a little dismayed when Shiba Miyako, Third Seat of the Thirteenth, stormed into the mess hall with their captain’s baby on her hip. She looked over the crowd of mostly young men and women. They looked like they’d taken the loss of their lieutenant and five other men in stride. They were somewhat muted but still talking and joking as usual. Loss was too much a part of the Gotei to let it knock you down.  
“You ought to be ashamed of yourselves,” she said loudly.  
Silence fell and every set of eyes turned toward her. Every single person was waiting for her condemnation.  
“Your captain is away, serving the Gotei, and not one of you thought to see if his family needed any help. What sort of a division does not think to help its captain in every possible way? Captain Ichimaru cannot be here now for his family because of his duty to all of you, but you’re here, so get off your lazy asses and help!”  
One of the officers got up the nerve to ask how and Miyako quickly picked out five people to give her a hand and told the rest she expected them to assign someone to check on Rangiku and the boys every day their captain was gone and see if there was anything they needed. Then she led the five ‘volunteers’ back to the captain’s quarters and handed out chores all around, setting two to attack the kitchen, and another to gather up any and all laundry he could find--including diapers--and take it all back to the division laundry for washing, while the last two got to try to help Miyako try to straighten out the avalanche of clutter. And most importantly, no one was to disturb the Captain’s wife’s bath!  
Miyako felt pretty satisfied with herself as she watched two young shinigami scramble about, trying to figure out where everything belonged. She did not feel at all bad giving them a job that was not technically part of the division members’ duty. She belonged to the Thirteenth Division. Every single member of her division would do anything for their captain, including cleaning his home, which she doubted he even knew was not usual. Captain Ukitake never asked for help, but he needed it, and his division would always be there, even before he knew he needed anything.  
Clearly the Third Division needed more training. It was true that they’d been without a captain for the better part of a century, so maybe they just needed a little more time to figure out what they were supposed to be doing. Maybe she’d knocked some sense into them, and from now on they’d remember that their captain needed them to help make it possible for him to be the best possible captain he could be. She didn’t like Gin, herself, but he was a captain. He deserved to be treated with just as much respect and devotion as any other captain.  
Rangiku reappeared after well over an hour. She looked much better now, all washed and relaxed, her damp hair hanging over her shoulder and her skin still a little flushed from the heat of the bath. She had discarded the dirty kimono and wore a thin pink cotton yukata instead. Miyako could still see the shadow of worry and depression in her friend’s eyes, but at least they had taken one practical step forward.  
Rangiku watched one young shinigami rush past, pushing a cloth over the wooden hall floor, and then she noticed another adding a pile of books to the stacks in the closet. Miyako and Kinta waved at her from the couch, and Kinta yelled, “Mama!” loudly.  
Rangiku joined them on the couch, and Kinta climbed immediately into her lap. “What’s going on?” she asked as the boy gathered more books to pile into the closet.  
“Captain Ichimaru’s division has decided it’s their responsibility to take care of his family while he’s away,” Miyako told her, smiling smugly.  
“That’s very nice of them,” Rangiku said, knowing full well that Miyako must have bullied them into it. Division Three was nice and friendly to her family, but they still had not really gotten used to Gin as their captain.  
“I made you an appointment with Unohana at ten tomorrow, and don’t even try to argue. It isn’t like you to spend your days laying around at home. I don’t know if you need medication or not, but you have to do something and talking to Unohana always helps.”  
“Ok,” Rangiku said. “I can do that.”  
“And,” Miyako added, lowering her voice as the young shinigami left the room with a sack of garbage. “Since you really need something fun to do, I’ve decided I’m going to help you play matchmakers for my captain. I've even picked out the perfect girl for him.”  
“You’re kidding?” Rangiku said, sitting forward with her eyes glowing. “You’re really going to let me set your captain up with someone? Really?”  
Miyako nodded. “Yes, but only because I’m absolutely sure she’s perfect for him, and if we don’t set them up they will never find that out. They never have any reason to speak to each other so we need to give them one.”  
“Who are you thinking of?” Rangiku asked, looking even more excited.  
“Nemu,” Miyako declared proudly.  
Rangiku stared at her for a moment, before she burst out laughing. “Nemu? Kurotsuchi Nemu! That’s wonderfully fantastic and completely insane! Why Nemu?”  
Miyako waited for Rangiku to stop giggling before she answered. “For one thing my captain needs someone who won’t panic if he coughs up a little blood, and Nemu certainly isn’t squeamish. She’s very intelligent and kind and sweet in her way, and she would take good care of him without trying to baby him, and he could take care of her too. He needs to take care of someone; it makes him happy, and he doesn’t often get the chance. But Nemu needs a lot of taking care of, she’s so completely helpless when it comes to dealing with other people, and with all the common sense things that everyone else takes for granted she’s lost. He could help her with all of that. He wouldn’t laugh at her and make her feel stupid like most men do. He’d be gentle and kind and make her feel worth something. She has so many problems with that awful father of hers. She needs help and she needs love and I think my captain would be very happy to give her both.”  
Rangiku was grinning by the end of Miyako’s speech. “You’re right, but you missed the number one reason why Ukitake’s perfect for her.”  
“What’s that?” Miyako asked.  
“Captain Kurotsuchi won't be able to murder him, and there aren’t many men you can say that about,” Rangiku added with a laugh.  
Miyako’s eyes widened. “Do you think he would try?”  
“Surely even he’s not that stupid. The General usually lets him do whatever he wants, but even he has to know there are certain people you just can’t mess with, and Captain Ukitake is at the top of that list.”  
“I hadn’t even thought about Kurotsuchi,” Miyako admitted. “I suppose you’re right that there’s no way he would like seeing his daughter find someone.”  
“One more thing,” Rangiku said with a huge smile. “You get to give Nemu The Talk.”  
“The talk?” Miyako repeated, looking confused.  
“Nemu knows nothing about life and that includes love and sex and even kissing. She once asked me why I liked to taste Gin’s mouth so much, honestly, she did, with a completely straight face. She really wanted to know. It was years ago, before we even got married, and I was so completely embarrassed at having been caught that I just told her it was because he tasted like the persimmons he loves so much and ran off.”  
“But that was years ago,” Miyako said. “She’s probably learned plenty since then.”  
“When I was pregnant this time Nemu asked me how I managed to incubate a baby in my belly rather than one of their gigai incubators in R&D and if I really considered my method practical, especially since I couldn’t seem to grow them past their larval stage and R&D could achieve a full-grown gigai in the same amount of time.  
“I tried to explain to her that mine was the natural method and that all the time children spent growing up was valuable for shaping their characters and gave them time to learn and understand the world before they had to face it on their own.  
“She wasn’t listening though because the moment I stopped talking she asked me how I planned to get the baby out, and if I’d been equipped with an access panel when I was impregnated.”  
Miyako opened and shut her mouth. “Did you explain?” she finally asked.  
“No, I laughed so hard I had to run to the bathroom before I pissed myself,” Rangiku said. “Mind you, I have to say I like the idea of an access panel.”  
Rangiku finally noticed that Kinta was pulling on her collar, a sure sign that he was hungry. She shifted him into the crook of one arm and easily freed one breast from her kimono to feed him.  
There was a crash of ceramics shattering on wood, and Miyako spun around to see that one of the boys she had drug over to clean was standing over a wooden tray and the remains of Rangiku's best tea set in a pool of tea. He was staring at Rangiku as though stricken. He had very obviously not had much in the way of previous experience seeing a woman’s bare breast.  
Miyako was about to tell him off for staring when Rangiku laughed.  
“Sorry, Tomo,” she said lightly. “I forgot you were here--Miyako, can you hand me Kin-chan’s blanket?” she said, pointing at a basket of baby linens beside the couch.  
The boy pulled himself together enough to look away when Rangiku spoke, and dropped to the ground, scrambling to clean up.  
“Poor thing,” Rangiku said, as she draped the blanket over her shoulder to cover herself and the baby. “I can’t help feeling sorry for them. There are so many innocent young shinigami, and that’s all they’re ever going to be. So many of them die so young. Two of the boys with Suzuki were less than a decade out of the Academy, just children who’d never even had a chance to live their lives.”  
Miyako saw the tears beginning to form in Rangiku’s eyes and quickly scrambled to distract her. “Can you think of any way to make Nemu and my captain speak to each other? I’ve tried bringing her to the division three different times and neither of them will ever say anything to each other. Nemu never does say anything if she doesn’t have to, and the captain is actually very shy with people he doesn’t know.”  
Rangiku smiled at that. “We’ll just have to make him rescue her,” she declared.  
“Rescue her?” Miyako repeated skeptically. “Have you never seen Nemu fight? Kurotsuchi made her so strong that I doubt she can be killed.”  
“She needs rescuing from her bully of a father. Everybody knows it. We just have to find a way to make Captain Ukitake see it firsthand. I doubt he could just standby while Kurotsuchi smacked Nemu around, even if she is his lieutenant and his daughter,” Rangiku answered. “Captain Ukitake has to put up with a lot he doesn’t really like in the Gotei; I’ve seen him flinch more than once at the behavior of other Captains, but I really don’t think he could endure Kurotsuchi’s abuse of Nemu if he saw it himself.”  
Miyako smiled. “Nemu, the maiden in distress, you really are brilliant sometimes, Rangiku-chan.”


	27. Chapter 27

Gin watched his men spread out along the edges of the treeline. Twenty of his strongest squad members surrounded the half-formed Arrancar, and every last one of them was starving for vengeance. Lieutenant Suzuki had been with the Third for the last century, stepping up when they lost their captain and lieutenant. He had held the squad together and kept them going. They had loved him--certainly a lot more than they did their new captain.  
He would allow them to try to take out the Arrancar themselves. They deserved the chance, but he was also determined not to lose one more man to this thing. He held Shinso in his hand, ready to end the fight instantly. For now, however, he would use the opportunity to assess their skills.  
They attacked simultaneously from every direction, very well coordinated, unlike some divisions. There were at least two men to each waving tentacle, one attacking while the other defended. It might have worked if the thing wasn’t so well armored. Most of their attacks glanced off its skin, only the Fourth Seat’s zanpakuto sliced through one tentacle, and they discovered a secondary defense even Gin hadn’t known about.  
Bright green blood sprayed from the severed tentacle, drenching the Fourth Seat and two others. They screamed as the acid blood came in contact with their skin, burning instantly. All three fell to the ground writhing in agony.  
The Arrancar raised its damaged tentacle, roaring. The tentacle reformed in the air and swung back down with lethal force. It would have crushed at least one of the injured shinigami, but Gin was between them, blocking its swing with the flat of his blade.  
“Fall back,” he shouted at his men. The acid blood was too much for them, but still he was proud of them. Not one of them panicked. They withdrew quickly but carefully, watching their backs and helping the injured. There were too many tentacles for him to stop every blow, but his men were at his back, shielding him and the injured as others drug them away.  
“You think you can escape me?” the Arrancar roared. “I will devour all of you, like I did your friends. I will--”  
“Shinso, shoot to kill,” Gin commanded, the moment his men were out of range. The zanpakuto lashed out, slashing through half the Arrancar’s waving tentacles at once. He jumped back, easily escaping the spray of blood and striking again through the Arrancar’s now unprotected core. One more slash and its face and broken mask were split.  
The monster tumbled to the ground with an agonized scream and shattered into a million sparkling lights, dissolving into nothing almost instantly.  
Gin was startled when the men behind him burst into a cheer and shouted out praises of him. He sheathed Shinso and took a breath, making sure his grin was properly in place before he turned to face his men.   
“It’s always nice when no one dies, isn’t it?” he said pleasantly. Then he added, “Too bad about Shirakawa’s face though. Maybe next time he’ll remember to dodge.”  
“Yes, sir,” the Fourth Seat said, miserably. His face was red and covered in blisters. He was obviously in a great deal of pain, but he managed to look even more miserable at Gin’s criticism.  
Gin looked down at him. “Well done, landing a hit though,” he said, surprising even himself. He never praised anything less than perfection, and he had yet to see that in any of his men. “Takes quite a bit of reiatsu to cut through that armor. When Division Four lets you go I want you to focus on training your reflexes. You could be worth something someday if we can keep you alive long enough.”  
“Thank--thank you, sir,” Shirakawa stuttered, looking far too happy for someone who’d just had his face nearly burned off.  
Gin looked away. He was annoyed with himself. If he kept going around saying things like that they might start to think he gave a shit about them. They might even start to like him. That couldn’t happen. He was the villain. It was a simple role, and he usually enjoyed it, but every once in a while it might have been nice not to be thought a complete psychopath.  
“Saito,” he said, abruptly addressing the Fifth Seat. “Try to see that everyone makes it back alive, would you?”  
“Yes, sir,” Saito Reika answered, standing to attention, but the Captain was already gone. With the Arrancar defeated, there was no more reason for Gin to be there, so he vanished. Shunpo would get him halfway home before the night was over. There was no real reason for him to return with the others; with the injured it would take them at least four days to make it home. He really didn’t have that kind of patience.  
“Bastard,” Saito muttered under her breath, and nearly everyone agreed with her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro usually enjoyed his trips to Division Thirteen. Miyako made all of his favorite foods, and Kaien was always willing to give his some help with his sword technique, and when the captain was well he was one of the few people Toshiro still struggled to beat at Go. Ukitake would also tell him stories about past captains and conflicts, and the darker parts of Seireitei’s history; things most people wouldn’t talk to him about because he was too young, but Ukitake seemed to think he needed to understand the mistakes and misdeeds of the past, and unlike nearly everyone, Ukitake never forgot Toshiro was older than he looked as well as being a great deal more intelligent than most children his age.  
But he was not thrilled to be going this time. It seemed to him that the very least his mother and Aunt Miyako could do was ask him to be a part of their plan if they intended to use him, but of course they didn't. They made all their plans to use him without ever telling him at all. They just expected him to go along with everything like some stupid kid who had no idea what was going on.  
He very nearly ruined the whole thing by telling his dad at breakfast. There was no better way to ruin any of his mom’s games than by telling his dad, but at the last minute he felt sorry for her. She hadn't done anything stupid just for the fun of it in forever.  
So he guessed that meant he had agreed to cooperate, but he didn't have to be happy about it. He was sitting on the counter in the Division Thirteen kitchen, helping Miyako make rice balls for lunch when the expected interruption came.  
It was a call from a very annoyed Lieutenant Ise, demanding to know where Miyako was. She had agreed to fill in as Division Thirteen’s rep at the Gotei Thirteen Meeting for Second Quarter Resources Allocation and Expenditure. It was painfully boring for all involved, and Miyako doubted she was the only late rep. In fact she would bet money that the only people who had already arrived were Nanao and Ayasegawa from Eleven. Nanao expected to have to call everyone and drag them in, but that really was the whole idea.  
“I’m so sorry, Shiro,” Miyako said, as soon as she got done apologizing to Nanao. “But I’m going to have to go. I forgot all about this meeting. I’m not going to be able to come on our picnic. You’re going to have to apologize to your mom and Lieutenant Kurotsuchi for me. I’ll find someone to take you to them. I have to get to the meeting before Nanao combusts.”  
Toshiro watched her shove rice balls into the bento boxes as she spoke. He’d been trying to work out the details of their plan all morning, but his purpose was now perfectly clear. He was the excuse they were using to get Captain Ukitake out of the division. “There’s nobody here,” he said, hating to give them credit, but they had planned well.  
Kaien had nearly the entire division out in Rukongai practicing coordinated defense and attack strategies. Of the remaining skeleton crew there was exactly one person Toshiro had ever met before, Captain Ukitake.  
Miyako made a show of looking worried when he pointed that out. “I’ll have to ask the captain to take you,” she said, finally.   
“Don’t worry, Shiro, I know he won’t mind,” she added, completely misinterpreting Toshiro’s frown.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

She was right, of course, and Toshiro was not even a little bit surprised to find himself carrying the boxed lunch and walking with Captain Ukitake to Division Twelve. They were supposed to meet up with his mother and Lieutenant Kurotsuchi there, and he would go with them on a picnic and fly the special kite Lieutenant Kurotsuchi had made for him, and Captain Ukitake would be able to go home.  
Toshiro was pretty sure none of that was going to happen. He even tried to apologize to Captain Ukitake, but the captain had just smiled and assured Toshiro he hadn’t been doing anything important.  
When they got to Division Twelve they found themselves in the middle of a mass of chaos. There was a chained hollow roaring in the middle of the courtyard, surrounded by very nervous-looking unranked squad members armed only with long poles. Beyond that was a row of computers where nearly all of the division’s best scientists were working at a panicked pace, scurrying back and forth from one screen to another, speaking over the top of each other, all the while trying to follow directions their captain was shouting at them.  
In contrast, Lieutenant Kurotsuchi calmly read off the measurements from her computer screen. Her voice could be heard clearly through all the ruckus, reciting numbers that were slowly increasing.  
Toshiro stopped immediately. This was the first time he had ever come face to face with a hollow. He’d seen pictures and read dozens of books about them, but the real thing was something else entirely.  
It was a hideous shade of white. For the first time he understood why people might recoil from his appearance. There was something sickening about the hollow’s bone-white form. The long, curved claws and teeth were nothing to the color. It was just--wrong.  
“You’re perfectly safe,” Captain Ukitake said, setting his hand on Toshiro’s shoulder.  
Toshiro wanted to tell the captain he knew that, and he wasn’t afraid of any little hollow in the first place, but his mouth had gone dry, and he found he couldn’t speak.  
As they watched, the hollow began to glow. Toshiro could feel the field of reishi building up around the creature. It made him feel better, like the creature’s darkness was being buried in light.  
For a moment the hollow grew still, like even it could feel the comforting sensation of the glowing reishi. It seemed almost calm, and for an instant Toshiro thought he saw a glint of human eyes in the skull-like mask.  
The hollow burst suddenly, exploding into dust.  
Toshiro heard Captain Kurotsuchi shout, “Idiot girl! I told you to watch the pressure!”  
He looked over just in time to see Kurotsuchi smack his lieutenant into the computer in front of her. She fell to the ground and Kurotsuchi continued to curse her. “Why can’t you ever get anything right? I gave you more than adequate intelligence to follow simple directions!”  
Toshiro was just as stunned as everyone else to find, the moment Captain Kurotsuchi raised his hand to strike Nemu again, his wrist was caught in Captain Ukitake’s grasp.   
“There’s really no need for that, is there?” Captain Ukitake said, in a gentle tone that was somehow absolutely unbending.  
“Release me!” Kurotsuchi shrieked, turning on Ukitake.  
Ukitake let him go, watching the other captain rage at him with an air of complete calm.  
“How dare you touch me! You have no right to interfere in the discipline of my subordinates. You will leave here immediately, do you hear me? Unless you wish to fight, you will leave my division now and never return!”  
Ukitake looked away from the furious captain and instead turned his attention to the lieutenant, still on the ground in front of her computer. Blood was dripping from her brow, where she had collided with the edge of the computer, but she looked more confused than hurt or frightened.   
“Are you alright, Lieutenant?” Ukitake asked, dropping to one knee beside her and offering her a handkerchief for her head. “Do you need to go to Division Four?”  
“What do you think you’re doing?” Kurotsuchi demanded. “Did you not hear me tell you to leave? The girl is fine. Do you think I would allow her to be damaged by such an insignificant strike? What use would she be if she was as fragile as an ordinary female?”  
Ukitake ignored him, continuing to focus on Nemu as she first stared at the cloth he offered her. Then very slowly she took it and raised it to her brow to stop the blood flowing into her eye. She seemed completely bewildered by the captain’s attention. “I do not think Division Four would know how to repair me,” she told him. “But I have not taken so much damage that I cannot repair myself.”  
“There!” Kurotsuchi snapped. “You see? She’s fine. Now, leave, before I decide to pay you back for this unacceptable interruption!”  
Ukitake offered Nemu his hand, which she was just as puzzled by as she had been by the cloth. He had to ask her if he could help her to her feet before she understood and took his hand.  
“What are you doing?” Kurotsuchi demanded. “Did you not hear me tell you to leave? I cannot believe this intrusion! Why will you not get out?”  
Ukitake turned slowly to face the scientist. “I expect you will want to apologize to your lieutenant now, Captain Kurotsuchi.”  
“What are you talking about? Her mistake cost me months of work! That was our very last captive hollow. Now I am going to have to file a request for a new supply and wait for some other captain to feel like sending out his men to capture them, and Squad Eleven nearly always ends up killing them, while Two refuses even to try after I sent the wrong sedative with them just once. If that idiot had kept a better eye on the reishi--”  
Ukitake finally interrupted him. “You are aware that captains are not permitted to use violence to discipline their subordinates, are you not, Captain Kurotsuchi?”  
“Don’t be absurd!” Kurotsuchi answered. “Nemu’s mine. I can do whatever I want with her. She’s hardly even a person.”  
“She is a lieutenant of the Gotei 13, and she has every right to be treated as such,” Ukitake said, still showing no trace of anything but perfect calm.  
“You are trying my patience, Captain Ukitake! There is no reason for you to waste your over-sentimental feelings on Nemu. She does not even feel the pain you are so concerned about. I would not allow such weakness—“  
Ukitake cut him off there, turning to Nemu once more. “You do not feel pain?” he asked.  
“The inability to feel pain would be a handicap,” Nemu answered with perfect honesty. She only lied when specifically directed to by her father. The purpose of lying was generally lost to her. “I have been trained to endure any level of pain without reacting, so as to avoid losing functionality due to injury. I have not yet mastered the ability to remain conscious in all circumstances but I hope to one day.”  
For the first time in the encounter Ukitake lost his calm expression as a sick horror spread across his face. “What has he done to you?” he breathed.  
She frowned slightly. Even Nemu could not miss his expression. “You object to my training?” she asked. “Do you not think I am more useful this way?”  
“What you must have suffered!”  
“All training requires some degree of suffering,” Kurotsuchi cut in. “I imagine that even in your division training has resulted in occasional broken bones and concussions. I may train my own division members as I wish, and if I see fit to train them to endure a certain amount of pain that is my business, not yours.”  
“You still have no right to hit her in a fit of temper.”  
Kurotsuchi rolled his eyes. “Nemu, would you please tell this idiot that the occasional smack doesn’t bother you and he needs to mind his own business.”  
Nemu nodded and spoke as directed. “The occasional smack does not bother me and you need to mind your own business,” she said, in an almost robotic fashion. Then she lowered the blood-stained handkerchief and started to return it, but she paused. “It was very kind of you to give this to me, but I think it would be best if I washed it before I return it.”  
“You don’t need to worry about returning it. I have plenty,” he told her, a very troubled smile on his face.  
“Then I may keep it?” Nemu said, in surprise.  
“If you wish.”  
She bowed abruptly. “Thank you very much, Captain Ukitake. I am grateful for your kindness.”  
He only looked more troubled at her response. “Lieutenant, if there is anything I can do to help you, please tell me.”  
“It boggles the mind that a man as soft as you could possibly have made captain of the Gotei,” Kurotsuchi said. “How could you ever win a fight? You’d never even start one, you’d be too busy feeling sorry for your enemies.”  
Ukitake’s expression shifted once more as he turned back to Kurotsuchi. His eyes narrowed and his expression was uncharacteristically hard. “It has been a long time since I’ve started a fight,” he said softly. “Perhaps I should see if I can find the energy once more.”  
With that he turned and walked away, crossing the courtyard quickly. He paused only for a second in front of Toshiro. “I hope you have a good picnic, Shiro-chan,” he said, smiling at the boy before raising his eyes to the person behind him and nodding politely. “Rangiku-chan.”  
“Captain Ukitake,” she answered, and Toshiro spun around to give his mother a very annoyed look.  
“How long have you been here?” he demanded.  
Rangiku watched the white-haired captain pass under the gate before she answered. “Half an hour--I wonder what he will do now. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Captain Ukitake look so upset.”  
“It’s your fault,” Toshiro told her.  
“I’m not sure it went quite right,” she answered, a worried frown on her face.


	28. Chapter 28

Toshiro sheathed Hyorinmaru slowly. He was looking around the landscape of frozen trees and ice-coated earth with some satisfaction. There was nothing for his father to criticize this time. His shikai was perfect. Kido, shunpo and every other part of shinigami training had given him at least some sort of challenge, but it was like Hyorinmaru was a part of him. The ice flowed from the slightest thought, acting exactly as he intended.  
“Not bad,” Gin said from just behind him.   
That was code for perfection in his father’s book so Toshiro allowed himself the slightest smile, before he turned to face Gin. “I want to fight hollows,” he said. There was no point in trying to give reasons or arguments, no point in even asking nicely; his father would either agree or he wouldn’t. That was the end of it.  
For a moment Gin just looked at him, smiling that same smile Toshiro hated so much. He always felt like there was something else, behind the smile, something cold and empty, that was judging him without any sentiment, deciding his value without any concern for their relationship or anything else, nothing but cold, hard facts.  
“Your mother won’t like it,” Gin said finally, and Toshiro knew he would be allowed to try if he wanted to. This was his chance to back out.  
“She’d be pretty mad about Hyorinmaru if she knew,” Toshiro answered.  
Gin shrugged, granting the point. “Fighting hollows is never a game, even the weakest hollows, even with me there, there is always a chance something could go wrong; you could be killed.”  
Toshiro raised his head. “I don’t want to play games anymore. I’m ready to fight for real.”  
“We’ll see if we can find you one next time,” Gin said, turning back toward Seireitei.  
Then he vanished, and Toshiro raced after him. One day he would win the race. One day he would surpass his father in everything. He would, one day he would show him, and he would win.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Gin turned around the moment he saw them, but that was still a moment too late. The fact that Toshiro had asked about using the division’s back garden for some private Kidō practice and had taken his lunch with him should have clued him in. The Women’s Shinigami Association was meeting in his home. Joining had been one of Miyako's many strategies to get Rangiku back to her active self, and Gin completely supported that, but no one had said anything about Rangiku hosting.  
Rangiku shouted his name before he could vanish, and he was forced to come inside and say hello. He wasn’t sure there was a more intimidating group of shinigami in all of Soul Society.  
He smiled broadly and stepped up onto the porch. “Hello, ladies. I hope you’re finding everything to your liking?”  
“Never mind that,” Rangiku said. “Tell us everything you know about Captain Kuchiki adopting a student.”  
Gin’s smile faded, looking over all the curious faces. Even the baby stopped chewing on a block to look up at his father questioningly. “But I don’t know--”  
He was interrupted by various doubtful and disbelieving exclamations. Yachiru told him, “We all know you snoop, Fox-face. It's time you shared your treasure. Otherwise we’re going to have to punish you for all that nosing around where you don’t belong.”  
Gin sighed and sat down beside Rangiku. “Can I have a cookie first?”  
Rangiku pulled over a half-empty tray of chocolate chip cookies he’d brought her back from the World of the Living. She’d told him she’d been craving more chocolate since he’d brought her the gift from Urahara. Craving indeed! She'd just wanted something exciting to serve at the meeting.  
“I honestly don’t know all the details,” Gin began, after finishing two cookies with all those women staring at him like rabid wolves. “Kuchiki doesn’t share, and he’s gotten even more tight-lipped since Hisana’s death. What I do know is that since then he’s had his men scouring Rukongai looking for a young woman with a strong resemblance to his late wife. I bought one of his men some sake and tried to get some more details, but he really didn’t seem to know who he was looking for or why. All he had was a picture of Hisana and a very narrow age-range. It’s always disappointing when you go to a real effort and it doesn’t pay. Happens too often with Kuchiki. He’s terribly careful never to talk in front of servants or even low-ranking retainers. Most nobles seem to forget they’re even there.”  
“And the girl, Rukia, does she really look like Hisana?” Rangiku asked.  
Gin smiled there. He had seen the student Kuchiki had decided to bring into his family. “She looks exactly like her, only even shorter and with darker hair.”  
Rangiku shivered. “It’s not right, bringing another girl just like Hisana into his house. What could he want with her? He’s not using her as some sort of replacement, is he?”  
“Rangiku!” Nanao said. “Please at least try to remember Captain Kuchiki is our superior and head of one of the Four Great Houses. You need to show some respect when you talk about him. It’s not appropriate to suggest anything like that without good reason.”  
“Everyone’s thinking it,” Rangiku answered, looking around the table.  
“It seems to me that replacing Hisana-sama with a lookalike would be a fine solution to the depression Captain Kuchiki has been suffering since her death,” Nemu offered. “It is better than mourning her indefinitely, isn’t it?”  
Gin smiled at the idea of letting the rumor spread. If these women went home today suspecting it, by this time tomorrow the entirety of Seireitei would believe it was fact. But, as much fun as that would be, Rangiku would be furious at him for not letting her know better if he already did. “According to Ren-chan and Kumi-chan, two of Kuchiki’s maids, there is nothing of that nature going on. The captain does not spend any unnecessary time with his adopted sister, and even when they are together he rarely speaks to or even looks at her. Ren-chan thinks he finds it too painful and Kumi-chan says she overheard two of the top family members refer to Rukia as a relative of Hisana’s.   
“I would guess that Rukia is a close relative of Hisana’s that she had somehow lost, and Hisana asked Kuchiki to find her before she died. Why he’s keeping it secret is beyond me, but knowing Kuchiki he probably doesn't think it’s anyone else’s business. Rukia will be joining the Thirteenth next week so Miyako can ask Rukia herself then--and lovely as it has been talking to you all I really do have to get back to work.” With that Gin hopped to his feet and vanished, using shunpo to disappear before his wife came up with another topic to quiz him on.  
“How does he know she’s joining the Thirteenth?” Miyako wanted to know. “Kaien hasn’t said anything to me.”  
“He probably got it from some clerk in charge of issuing uniforms or something,” Rangiku said. “He’s always making friends with people everyone else thinks are insignificant. It’s like he has his very own network of spies across Seireitei, and most of them don’t even know they’re spying for him.”  
“How can they not know they’re spying for him?” Nanao asked, suspiciously.  
“A lot of them have been his friends practically forever, since back when he could play ‘I’m a nobody from Rukongai; I’m just like you’ with all the lowest ranking people in Seireitei. Like him some of them have moved up, but most have stayed at the bottom, and they trust him and like that he’s still interested in them now that he’s a big important captain. They like telling him things they think will impress him,” Rangiku explained as she moved the cookies out of Kinta’s reach.   
The boy gave her a look and tried to climb onto the table, but she picked him up and set him in her lap before she continued to speak. “You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve heard people tell him at Division Four! But, when I ask, Gin always acts like I’m being silly and he was just talking to an old friend, not quizzing an informant about all the General’s ailments or some other private medical issue.”  
“That’s a little disturbing,” Nanao said. “I’ve heard of befriending someone for information before, but that’s taking it to a whole new level.”  
“Do you know who tells him things in the Fourth Division?” Isana asked.  
Rangiku shook her head. “Some of them, but there’s no point in trying to stop them. He can always find someone else who likes to talk. I was just relieved when I realized he wasn’t actually spying on everyone we know.”  
“I suppose that’s something,” Miyako said. “I’ve heard rumors Captain Kurotsuchi has cameras all over Seireitei.”  
“What do you mean ‘all over’?” Nanao asked.  
“Gin spent hours searching this house when we moved in,” Rangiku offered. “And he wouldn’t let me change until he was done.”  
All eyes went to Nemu. The lieutenant blinked back at them, slightly surprised and confused by their reactions. This was the first Women’s Association meeting she’d ever attended. Rangiku had insisted she come to work on her socialization skills, and considering how much difficulty she was having comprehending their various reactions to things, she was beginning to suspect Rangiku had a point and she had a serious lack of skill when it came to understanding other people. “Is there a problem?” she asked, finally, when it became clear that they were expecting some sort of response from her.  
“There are cameras in our homes?” Miyako asked.  
“All streets and outside views are covered throughout Seireitei,” Nemu said, “And of course there is also surveillance within all Gotei buildings.”  
“But even in our residences?” Miyako demanded.  
Nemu nodded. “Of course.”  
Nanao lowered her glasses slowly. “Nemu, are you saying that we are being watched by Division Twelve at all times?”  
“Are there cameras in the baths?” Isana said, softly, her eyes growing to the size of saucers.  
“But Gin was joking,” Rangiku protested, realizing suddenly that that had only been her assumption. He’d sounded nothing but serious, his version of serious anyway.  
“I thought Fox-face was nosey,” Yachiru said. “Clownie’s way worse!”  
Nemu looked from one furious face to another. She didn't understand why they were so upset. In fact, she was surprised they didn't already know about the system. Everyone but Miyako was a lieutenant. They all had adequate clearance. It had been rated ‘need to know’ but they clearly seemed to need to know. It seemed to her that someone must have been quite negligent in issuing reports on the system. “The camera network exists only for the security of Seireitei,” she told them. “I can send you all full reports after I return to the Division. There’s no reason for you to be concerned.”  
“The hell there’s not,” Nanao said. An aura was beginning to grow around the lieutenant. She was beginning to radiate the sort of rage that might have frightened the others if they weren’t equally upset.  
Miyako protested, “But I’ve never seen a camera! I thought people were just being paranoid.”  
“So did I,” Rangiku agreed. “Why would there be cameras in our home?”  
Nemu frowned. She didn’t like how upset everyone seemed to be getting. “There are cameras everywhere. The system would not be nearly so useful if there were blind spots within the Gotei. We are already restricted from placing cameras within private property.”  
“Are you insane?” Nanao demanded.  
“Can you hear us too?” Miyako asked. She was gradually turning an unhealthy shade of gray.  
“The sound is usually recorded, but it is turned off during monitoring. While people can keep track of multiple scenes at once the Captain found that listening to multiple conversations simultaneously tended to be distracting.”  
“Monitoring?” Miyako repeated, she didn’t seem able to get past that one word.  
Rangiku looked over at her friend. “Don’t faint, Miya-chan,” she said. She’d never seen Miyako reach that particular shade.  
“Easy for you to say,” Miyako answered. “Your husband made sure there wasn’t a camera in your bedroom.”  
Rangiku smiled darkly. “Kind of a pity. It would be nice to know I was making all those spies at Division Twelve jealous.”  
“Rangiku!” Miyako snapped.  
“I know,” Rangiku agreed. “It’s horrible, and something needs to be done about it.”  
“We should all file complaints,” Miyako said.  
“We should burn Division Twelve to the ground,” Nanao suggested instead.  
“I think I prefer Nanao's suggestion,” Isana said, softly.  
“Yay! Let’s go for it!” Yachiru cheered. “I can get Ken-chan to help. He hates Clownie. He could pound him while we get the torches.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Even if sanity returned to the women's shinigami association before the destruction of an entire division the women had no intention of showing mercy to Captain Kurotsuchi. Each and every member filed a complaint, although Nemu took a bit of convincing as she still didn't follow exactly what the problem was. They then went home and spread the news of Twelve’s spying, recruiting as many people as they could to join in by filing their own complaints.  
By the time the Ethics Office closed that evening nearly two thousand complaints had been filed along with complaints by more than half the captains. Kurotsuchi came very close to having the Discipline Team sent after him by Soifon, and Gin was pretty sure this was the best day in decades. He was very disappointed with himself for never having bothered to point out the spying to the women in the first place. It was better than a dozen birthdays.  
He was smiling broadly as he entered the Emergency Captains’ Meeting. He had come late as usual so he could get a good look at all the others as he came in. The poor General looked upset; he really shouldn’t have ok’ed the surveillance system in the first place. Soifon was, of course, murderous. She was glowing with more reiatsu than he’d seen around her in years. Unohana looked way too calm which was even more frightening. Aizen really had that righteous indignation combined with sorrowful disappointment down to an art form now. Kuchiki looked like he didn’t care but he always looked like that, except when he was actively planning to kill someone; that look was a little different. Who knew what Komamura thought behind that helmet of his, and Tosen always looked like a slightly more self-righteous and dull version of Aizen in Gin’s opinion. Zaraki looked as happy as Gin which was a little strange; there weren’t many things they both enjoyed, but seeing Kurotsuchi in trouble was apparently one of them.  
The last three captains, Kyoraku, Ukitake, and Kurotsuchi all looked furious. It was a bit unsettling on Kyoraku and Ukitake because Gin really had no idea what either of them were actually capable of. Kurotsuchi was a little worrying because he kept changing his poisons, and Gin had a hard time keeping up with his antidote supply, but, all things considered, he was less frightening than the other two.  
“Hello, hello,” Gin said pleasantly as he waved at the others on his way to his place across from Soifon. “Sorry I’m late again, Yama-ji. Kin-chan went and spilled his entire dinner on my uniform. It was either come smelling of natto or changing. I think I made the best choice for everyone--are we all going to get a turn to yell at Kurotsuchi or is that wishful thinking on my part?”  
“Enough!” Yamamoto commanded. “This is a serious matter. I won’t have you turning it to your own amusement, Ichimaru!”  
“Oh, nothing needs to be done for my amusement,” Gin said in the most serious voice he could manage. “I’m sure I’m going to enjoy this no matter what happens.”  
“That’s enough, Gin-kun,” Aizen said softly, and Gin shut up.  
The ancient general looked over the assembled group of captains. Some were among those he valued most in his long life; others, well, it was fair to say he did not care for young Ichimaru, and Kurotsuchi was evil, but he was a necessary evil. There had not been a mind like his in the last century. Yamamoto wished they'd realized the value of R&D before they lost the even more brilliant Urahara, if only because keeping Kisuke around would have felt less like they were compromising the integrity of the entire Gotei. But that decision was in the past; the Gotei of today needed Kurotsuchi.  
“First of all,” Yamamoto said, firmly. “Do we know how the women came to learn of the top secret surveillance program?”  
“You mean this was an authorized program?” Kyoraku couldn’t hold back at that discovery.  
“Captain Kurotsuchi may have taken the program beyond its original boundaries, but yes, a surveillance program was enacted some years ago. It has remained on a need to know basis with only handpicked members of Twelve authorized to operate as monitors.”  
“I believe the leak occurred during a Women’s Shinigami Association Meeting at the home of Captain Ichimaru,” Kurotsuchi decided to point out before anyone could blame him for the leak. “Captain Ichimaru has been aware of the surveillance for some time, shown by the fact that all cameras were disabled in his residence upon his moving in. I would not put it past Captain Ichimaru to share his knowledge with the women for his own entertainment, despite the fact that he must be aware the project is secret.”  
“Oh, I do wish I had,” Gin answered. “I would love to have seen their faces when they learned you were watching them all the time. Ran-chan told me Lieutenant Ise was particularly furious. It’s too bad that they calmed her down. She wanted to burn Twelve to the ground at one point.”  
“Then it was your wife who told them,” Kurotsuchi accused.  
“Nah, Ran-chan didn’t believe me. If she had there’s no way she would have let you watch her friends bathe one more time,” Gin answered.  
“There are cameras in the baths?!” Kyoraku very nearly shouted.  
“That is unacceptable, Kurotsuchi,” the General said. “You were expected to follow reasonable limits during the installation. The women have every right to be upset if you violated their privacy to that degree.”  
“I was only told the cameras weren’t permitted within private property. I see no point in trying to monitor activities within the Gotei if access is further restricted. Everyone will know to keep their illegal activities out of public areas. The system will be all but useless,” Kurotsuchi argued.  
“It's true,” Gin agreed. “I'm always careful to keep mine confined to the bedroom, or are those activities not illegal until you go and record them? I've always wanted to ask you about that, because I know Seireitei has very strict rules about the recording and viewing of certain activities--”  
“Don't be obscene,” Kurotsuchi snapped. “We have no interest whatsoever in anything sexual. Deviancy is reported to the proper authorities; beyond that--”  
Gin grinned hugely. “Then you are watching? Do you make recordings because there was one time Ran and I--”  
“You're disgusting,” Kurotsuchi snapped.  
“I'd be willing to pay,” Gin protested.  
“Gin-kun,” Aizen said once more, and Gin shut up.   
It was a pity because Kurotsuchi wasn't the only one who was getting upset. For those who hadn't really thought through the implications of the surveillance program it was bringing the reality of its violations into focus. Even captains’ quarters within their divisions were not private property. Their privacy had been as thoroughly violated as every other shinigami's. Only Soifon and Kuchiki did not live on Gotei property.  
“It is clear we must review the surveillance system,” Yamamoto said, looking unhappy. “But we should also try to calm the public outrage. This anger directed at Captain Kurotsuchi is not useful. If we can find a way to reduce the impression of wrongdoing--  
“General, I understand the value of Captain Kurotsuchi and his division to the Gotei, however I cannot support any decision that would minimize these violations,” Captain Ukitake interrupted suddenly. “Captain Kurotsuchi has shown a pattern of disdain for the codes of ethical standards we are all to uphold. I was truly grieved to discover the number of complaints by members of his own division and others that have gone ignored for years. We, as captains, have failed the entire Gotei by allowing one of our own to act so completely without oversight or question.”  
Everyone was staring at Ukitake. He seldom spoke up in meetings, and when he did it was usually as a voice of calm when others were calling for immediate action. He had not once, in the past century, flat out disagreed with the General. Most of the captains were too surprised to respond one way or another. Kyoraku and Gin were both smiling at the white-haired captain. Kyoraku was thrilled to see his old friend taking the lead in arguing some sense into the General, but Gin was just pleased to see that things weren't going to be settling down any time soon.  
Yamamoto, for his part was going quickly from shocked to annoyed. “Jushiro, we will have enough problems calming the Gotei as it is. This is not the time to start bringing up every minor complaint against Kurotsuchi.”   
“I do not consider any of the complaints I have reviewed to be minor. There are multiple complaints of both aggression by the captain and of his carelessness leading to injury. I personally have witnessed him lash out violently against his lieutenant, and I have grave concerns about his treatment of all his subordinates. Not only are the number and frequency of complaints disturbing, but a review of Division Twelve’s public records confirms the veracity of the complaints. I found that the mortality rate for members of Division Twelve averages five per year, or fifty a decade, which is comparable to the Eleventh Division’s rate of fifty-two a decade. The Eleventh Division is considered the most dangerous of all divisions and recruits are warned of this when they join. No one is warning the graduates who join Twelve; it is assumed to be relatively safe, due to the fact that members seldom participate in combat missions, which begs the question, why is it so dangerous? I believe there should be an immediate investigation into exactly what Captain Kurotsuchi is doing to endanger his division, and that all his ethical violations, including the violation of every shinigami’s privacy, and the brutality with which he treats his subordinates, be brought before Central 46 for official sanction.”  
Gin was impressed. He didn’t think he’d ever heard Ukitake speak that long without pausing to let someone else share their own opinion.  
“You’re still worked up about Nemu?” Kurotsuchi demanded, looking disgusted. “If you want to sleep with the girl, go ahead, I won’t object; just stop--”  
“I beg your pardon!” Ukitake interrupted in a tone that sounded like Kurotsuchi had better start begging his and quickly.  
“Hey, now!” Kyoraku said quickly. “Let’s stick to the topic at hand.”  
“What is all of this about if it isn’t sex?” Kurotsuchi wanted to know. “You try to protect her from me, as though the protection of anyone with such a delicate constitution could be of any use to her, and now you’re complaining about how I run my division, which is not any business of yours. If it helps, I do not think she would reject your advances. The silly girl washed your handkerchief and carries it around with her. Quite ridiculous. Next time I think I will have a male lieutenant. Females are far too sentimental.”  
“I assure you, Captain Kurotsuchi,” Ukitake said slowly, very obviously holding back his fury at the scientist. “That your ethical abuses and the mortality of your staff would concern me, regardless of how I may feel personally toward your lieutenant.”  
Gin smiled. Maybe Ran was right; Ukitake was attracted to the maiden in distress. How funny. “I agree,” he said loudly. “If I’m not allowed to kill off my squad members, how come he’s allowed to kill off his? I've only lost six, and I’ve already had to face a review.”  
“R&D handles many sensitive issues, but that is no reason for it to escape from oversight,” Aizen said. “We cannot be placing large numbers of men and women in potentially deadly situations simply for the sake of advancing our technology, and this incident with the surveillance cameras has shown, at best, a lack of judgment in our head scientist, and at worst a complete disregard for the ethical standards that are intended to guide us all.”  
The meeting concluded with a unanimous decision to hold a full review of all of Division Twelve’s projects and the dismantling of a large part of the Seireitei surveillance network. Kurotsuchi agreed without argument when he realized his other option was to go before Central 46. A review would slow many important experiments, but Central 46 might shut him down entirely.  
When he left he was still convinced that everything was due to Captain Ukitake’s interest in his daughter, and that Ukitake was simply trying to impress her with all his noble efforts to protect her and her fellow division members. It was ridiculous because Nemu had no sense whatsoever of good and evil; he’d made her that way on purpose. He had no intention of getting in ethical arguments with his lieutenant. Ukitake was an annoying fool, and as far as Kurotsuchi was concerned, he needed to be punished for his meddling. He had no doubt he could find some way to punish the other captain; it was just a matter of time.


	29. Chapter 29

Rangiku stopped in the hallway just outside Toshiro's room. The boy was sitting on the floor shoving books into an enormous pack she'd noticed him carrying around recently. Spread around him on the floor were some neat piles of paper, writing supplies, a bento box, and even a wooden practice sword all waiting to be packed into the already half full bag.  
“What are you doing?” she asked, realizing that for the first time in his life she really had no idea what Toshiro was up to. She took a deep breath and pushed away the guilt that realization brought with it. It had been a horrible year and her family had certainly suffered because she hadn't been there for them like she should have been, but that happened sometimes. People got depressed, and blaming herself for it wasn't going to make anything better. She was better now, and she was going to be here for Shiro-chan, and Kin-chan, and Gin just like she always wanted to be.  
Toshiro glanced up at Rangiku and then back at his things, wondering for a second if she'd noticed the topics of his books--they were all about training bankai--before he answered. “I’m taking stuff to my secret base.”   
He figured ‘secret base’ sounded juvenile enough that no one would question it. There was actually a small area of the Third Division garden, way back in the bamboo thickets where no one went, that he and his father had placed a couple barriers on to prevent spying so he could practice with Hyorinmaru in peace.  
Rangiku smiled. She was glad Toshiro could still play silly games like any normal boy. “Does Daddy know? I thought you were going to the division morning exercises with him every day.”  
“He helped me make it,” Toshiro answered honestly. “I can't do much with the division so I go by myself sometimes and work on my own stuff.”  
“What sort of stuff?”  
He ran through his various projects in his head, quickly choosing one he could talk to his mother about. He wasn't like his father; he wasn't just going to make up some lie because it was easier. Not telling her about Hyorinmaru was to protect her, but that didn't make it ok to lie and lie and lie some more. “I've been reading early histories of Soul Society, looking for people like me, who can influence elements without their zanpakuto,” he told her.  
“Yeah?” Rangiku said. That did sound interesting. “You find anyone?”  
“Maybe, maybe even Yama-ji.”  
“Don't call General Yamamoto ‘Yama-ji’,” Rangiku said.  
“Dad does.”  
“And when have you ever wanted to be anything like your father?” she demanded. “If you are going to emulate him how about starting with his good habits instead of his bad ones.”  
“What good habits?” Toshiro wanted to know.  
Rangiku opened her mouth and paused. That wasn't a fair question. For one thing, Toshiro had inherited nearly every one of his father's good qualities. He was brilliant and gifted and hardworking, and determined and confident and even patient and tidy, all very much like his father, but she couldn't exactly tell him to start being what he already was. She laughed abruptly at that realization. “If you were any more like Daddy you’d have to start grinning twenty-four, seven!”  
“I'm nothing like him,” Toshiro answered with a glare.  
“Alright, you could still use a sense of humor, but you are so like him! A very short, uptight Gin with no sense of humor; that's what you are!” she teased.  
“Take that back!” Toshiro shouted after her as she left his doorway, still laughing.  
She poked her head back in and smiled. “I will if even one of the books you’ve packed in there isn't Daddy’s.”  
Toshiro glared at her. Of course the books he was studying were from his father. Where else was he going to get books to study from?  
“You didn't pack a single manga, did you?” she said. “You're going off all by yourself, and you could do anything you want, but you're going to study. You are exactly like him!”  
With that parting shot she vanished.  
Toshiro picked up the heavy pack and swung it over his shoulder. “I'm nothing like Ichimaru Gin,” he told himself forcefully.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Kaien stepped out of the lieutenants meeting to see Captain Ichimaru smiling and waving at him. For a second he wondered why the situation seemed familiar; then he remembered years ago when Gin had asked him for help getting into Kuchiki’s wedding. It looked like Gin wanted something from him again.  
As he approached Gin he had to remind himself they were no longer equals. He had to watch himself. Being rude to a captain could get him into all sorts of trouble, even if the captain was Ichimaru.  
He bowed politely when he reached Gin, and said, “Captain Ichimaru,” rather than just asking what the hell the man wanted now.  
Gin’s smile grew, and he answered with a bow of his own. “Shiba-dono,” he said, reminding Kaien of his new position, at least equal to Gin’s own, as head of the Shiba family.  
“What do you want?” Kaien asked. He hated being reminded of the Shiba family and all the pressures various members were placing on him. He should have pushed harder for someone else to take Isshin’s place.  
Gin glanced back at the other lieutenants. Some were still gathered near the meeting room’s doors. It was conceivable they could overhear if they were really trying. Gin nodded toward one of the walkways leading away from the city center. “Walk with me?” he suggested.  
Kaien shook his head. “Fine, but make it quick. Miyako and I both have the evening off for once, and I’d rather spend it with her than you.”  
“Don’t you make the work schedules?” Gin asked, looking puzzled.  
“I try to be fair.”  
“Why?” Gin asked, looking even more puzzled than before.  
“What is it you want from me, Captain?” Kaien asked.  
“You’re having trouble completing your bankai,” Gin said, lightly. “Thought I’d offer to give you a hand.”  
“Why?” Kaien asked, before he’d even thought it over. Gin, as far as he knew, had never offered to help anyone with anything, unless something was in it for him.  
“You can't really perfect it on your own, can you? You need a captain to train with, and I doubt yours is up to daily bouts,” Gin answered lightly.  
“Are you trying to pay me back for Kuchiki's wedding?” Kaien asked. “I think I’d rather keep you in my debt.”  
Gin paused at a railing. They had reached a place along the walkway where the gate of Division Ten was clearly visible in the city below.  
“Rangiku goes back to work in a month,” he said, ignoring Kaien’s question. “Not that she hasn’t been there every day recently, but she’ll be officially off leave. For all intents and purposes she will be in charge of Division Ten.”  
Kaien frowned. “Maybe you should help her learn bankai,” he suggested.  
Gin visibly flinched at his suggestion. “You’re closest, the only one in the Gotei who is, currently, and the Tenth needs a captain. Ran needs a captain---she needs one badly enough I'm willing to put in whatever time and energy it takes to get you there.”  
“Not me,” Kaien said. “I’m not going to test for captain even if I perfect my bankai.”  
“Because you’re waiting for Ukitake to die?” Gin suggested.  
Kaien nearly hit him then. The only thing that stopped him was Gin’s smirk. The bastard expected to be hit. “I am happy to serve as Captain Ukitake’s lieutenant for the rest of my life. I have no ambition to make captain of any division. I work to increase my strength, only so as to be more useful in my current position.”  
“Seems pretty selfish to me,” Gin answered. “Ignoring what’s best for the Gotei because you’re fond of your captain. The Tenth needs a captain. All of the members will suffer without one. Rangiku will do her best, but even I have to admit that it’s not in her nature to push herself, and now she has two kids to drain all her extra time and energy. There’s no way she will be able to run the division on her own.”  
Kaien looked away. The entire Shiba clan had already done this one to him, pushing duty and responsibility, while going on about how desperately he was needed. The family was barely able to hold together and hold onto their position because of the near disaster Isshin’s brother had caused. They needed him, his wife, his family--he didn’t blame Kukaku for taking off to Rukongai; he would have himself if he didn’t have such an overactive sense of duty. And now the Gotei needed him? Damn Isshin, wherever the hell he’d ended up! He’d left one hell of a mess behind him.   
“I’ve got to go,” he said abruptly, and vanished from Gin’s presence, doing his best to ignore how the bastard laughed as he ran.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku was having a bad day. She wasn't even back, officially, but she had made the mistake of opening a drawer in the captain’s desk. There was a pile of incomplete staff reports nearly filling the drawer. She opened another and found the year-end review forms stacked on top of six-month reviews, also completely blank. When she found the fiscal reports in the bottom drawer she nearly lost her mind.  
Third Seat Nakajima cowered back under her furious gaze. The division’s entire yearly budget was decided based on those reports. If they hadn’t been filed—the entire division budget could be cut!!!  
The result was Rangiku and five other officers stuck in the office for hours filling out forms—and late report forms—while Kinta did his best to get in everyone’s way.  
Gin suddenly appearing at the window in the late afternoon when she’d finally taken a break to eat did not make her any happier.  
“Ran, you have to come with me now,” he told her, completely ignoring the stacks of paper surrounding her and the staff of miserable officers handing out bento boxes like a lifeline.  
“I’m eating lunch,” she told him in annoyance.  
“Don’t be silly! It’s nearly four,” Gin answered. “You’ve got to hurry or we’re going to miss it entirely!”  
“What?”  
Gin hopped the sill and caught her by the wrist, pulling her to her feet. “Leave Kinta here--there’s no time--you all can watch him, can’t you?” Gin said with a quick glance at the others, but he didn’t wait for their response before he was dragging Rangiku out the window and vanishing with her.  
The Tenth Division officers barely had time to exchange baffled looks before Kinta burst out crying, and they had their hands full.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“What are we doing?” Rangiku demanded, when Gin finally stopped atop a building across from the Twelfth Division main gate.  
Gin was grinning hugely and staring down the road like he was waiting for something. “I hope it’s Kyoraku,” he said, softly. “Though Shiba could be a bit of a show too.”  
“What are you talking about?” Rangiku very nearly shouted at her husband.  
“You heard Ukitake took a turn for the worse yesterday?” he said, not taking his eyes from the road.  
Rangiku frowned. Of course she had. Changes in Captain Ukitake’s health were always a topic of prime interest in Seireitei. Everyone was well aware that they could lose the captain of the Thirteenth any day. There was even a very illegal underground pool going on with hundreds of people betting on whether he was going to survive any particular spell. Rangiku thought the idea of betting on a person’s life was sick; Gin had made a small fortune a few winters previously when the Captain had come down with double pneumonia. He had not mentioned his win to Rangiku. He didn’t think she’d appreciate it even if she knew he was one of the few people who’d actually bet the Captain would pull through.  
“What’s that have to do with anything?” Rangiku demanded.  
“It wasn’t his usual ailment,” Gin said. “It looked like a hemorrhagic fever. He was rushed to Division Four, and it's been all Unohana can do to keep him alive. Seemed a bit strange so I went to check on things this afternoon, tried to get Shiba to tell me anything, but he was useless. Thought I’d wasted the trip when sweet little Lieutenant Kurotsuchi appeared, apologizing and offering an antidote for a poison she claimed she’d inadvertently exposed the Captain to. I didn’t wait for the whole story. Instead I went to fetch you. I knew you wouldn’t want to miss anything.”  
“Then why are we at Division Twelve instead of Four?” Rangiku wanted to know. She would have to get the details from Miyako later. It was hard to believe Nemu could have poisoned Captain Ukitake even if it had been on accident, and how on earth did you poison a person on accident? Did the girl just carry poisons around with her, and, oops, she spilled one? That was insane.  
“That’s why we’re here,” Gin said, directing Rangiku’s attention to the street below.  
Captain Kyoraku was striding swiftly down the street with Nanao in tow. For a second Rangiku couldn’t figure out why he looked so wrong; then she realized he wore neither his signature pink haori nor his round hat. The expression on his face was all wrong as well. He looked angry.  
“I hoped it would be him,” Gin said, grinning even more enormously. “Aren’t you glad I made you come?”  
“What’s going on?” Rangiku asked.  
“Isn’t it obvious?”  
She watched Kyoraku stop at the gate and turn to the guards. “Tell your Captain I want to see him now,” Kyoraku said, in a forceful tone Rangiku would have sworn he couldn’t have managed however hard he tried.  
When the guards stared at him in understandable surprise, Nanao spoke up. “I suggest you hurry.”  
Both men took off at a jog.  
Kyoraku watched them until they vanished into one of the buildings. Then he turned slowly and raised his head. His eyes went straight to Gin and Rangiku. Kyoraku raised an eyebrow.  
Gin grinned and waved back. “Should we join?” Gin asked. “No, I don’t think so. It’s none of our business. Don’t think he’d appreciate help anyway.”  
Rangiku frowned. “You don’t think he’s going to try to kill Captain Kurotsuchi, do you?”  
“Nah,” Gin said. “Nemu’s antidote must have worked. Kyoraku wouldn’t have left Ukitake if his life was still in danger, and if he’d died, I doubt Kyoraku’d be waiting politely at the gate.”  
“Then what’s he going to do?” Rangiku asked, watching the waiting captain with growing anxiety. There was nothing outwardly threatening about Kyoraku. His reiatsu was suppressed as it normally was, a hum on the edge of her awareness, similar to that of any other captain, and his hands did not stray toward the hilts of his twin zanpakuto even once. He did not look like he was looking for a fight, except he wasn’t wearing his haori; that alone was enough to make Rangiku think Kurotsuchi would be wise to take an unexpected vacation right about now.  
Clearly she wasn’t the only one who thought so either. As other shinigami walking along the street caught sight of the captain they stopped. Some decided to go back the way they had come. Others just stopped where they were and stood watching the captain. Not one person walked past him.  
Quite a crowd had gathered by the time Kurotsuchi appeared. He looked only annoyed by Kyoraku’s appearance, but his hand on the hilt of his zanpakuto made it clear he knew exactly why Kyoraku was there.  
“Well?” he demanded in that shrill, annoyed tone that seemed to be his favorite. “What do you want? I haven’t got all--”  
Kyoraku interrupted with a single phrase. “Bakudo 99, Part One: Kin.”  
Rangiku gasped as the scientist was wrapped in lengths of black cloth that stretched across the ground tugging him downward as one after another huge gray stones pinned the cloth to the ground. She had never seen Bakudo 99 before.  
Beside her Gin said, “Without a chant.” He was also staring at the two captains.  
“What do you think you are doing?” Kurotsuchi demanded, struggling pointlessly against his bonds. “How dare you use kido against me!”  
“I’m putting you in time out,” Kyoraku said as he slowly walked toward the imprisoned captain. “I’m told you’re a smart fellow. I want you to think about the wisdom of your actions. Do you really think it’s a good idea, picking a fight with Ukitake? He’s a nice fellow, probably not even going to hit back; that’s what you thought, eh? But he has a lot more friends than you do. Do you really need that many enemies?”  
He had reached Kurotsuchi by then, and he leaned over and said something too quietly for Rangiku or Gin to hear. Then he turned his back on the man and calmly walked away.  
“Come on, Nanao-chan,” he called. “No reason to hang around here all day.”  
The crowd parted for the pair. Each and every shinigami watched Kyoraku walk away with a newfound respect for the lazy-seeming captain. He had completely incapacitated another captain with seemingly no effort at all. Perhaps Captain Kyoraku was a little stronger than public opinion would lead one to believe.  
Rangiku hurried after them and soon hopped to the ground to join the Eighth Division captain and lieutenant.  
“Nanao-chan, how is Captain Ukitake?” she asked quickly.  
Nanao turned and frowned. “Wasn’t Captain Ichimaru with you?” she asked.  
Rangiku glanced over her shoulder in surprise. She had simply assumed Gin would follow her. “He was,” she said a little uncertainly.  
“Gin-kun stayed to watch Kurotsuchi work his way out of the binding,” Kyoraku said. “It’s not often you have an opportunity to watch someone break a high level bakudo. Never misses a chance to learn something new, Gin-kun doesn’t.”  
“Oh,” Rangiku said. She’d never actually thought about that before, but Kyoraku was right. Gin was obsessed with learning. He was always reading or training, going as far as finding ways to persuade people who didn’t particularly like him to train him in things he couldn’t master on his own, but somehow she’d never thought about why. She had vaguely connected it to his determination to make captain, but he’d made captain, and he hadn’t slowed down. Why did he want to learn everything?   
“Captain Ukitake was doing much better when we left Division Four,” Nanao said, answering Rangiku's earlier question. “Nemu’s antidote worked almost instantly, and Captain Unohana is confident that he will be able to return home within a few days. Unfortunately there will be some lingering weakness, and that may continue for some time, and he will be more vulnerable to relapses or contracting other illnesses until he is fully recovered.  
“It is infuriating to find that Captain Kurotsuchi has been allowed to create such monstrous poisons,” Nanao continued. “I cannot see what purpose they could possibly serve for the Gotei. Nemu claims this one was not even considered lethal, only incapacitating. She insisted her father must have chosen it without considering Captain Ukitake’s already unhealthy state. She is sure the poison was meant to be a message rather than an attempted assassination.”  
“You’re sure the bakudo was enough, Nanao-chan?” Kyoraku asked abruptly. “There are some really lovely Hado, and nothing gets a point across like a blade just an inch to one side of the heart. I’d hate to have gone to all this trouble and the moron tries something else. I really would have to kill him then, and Yama-ji would be terribly cranky about it.”  
“I’m sure he’s learned his lesson, sir,” Nanao answered. “It will be very humiliating for him to struggle to break out in front of so many witnesses. I hope he takes so long Captain Ichimaru gets bored and decides to help him out. Accepting help from Ichimaru would be the ultimate humiliation--not that I mean anything against Captain Ichimaru,” Nanao added quickly, remembering Rangiku was walking beside her. “Kurotsuchi imagines himself to be so much better than everyone, and Captain Ichimaru is the junior most captain, which makes him the weakest in Kurotsuchi’s mind.”  
Rangiku smiled. She really wasn't worried what anyone thought of Gin. She'd never seen him try to make anything but a bad impression so it was his own problem if people didn't like him. “Gin said Nemu accidentally poisoned Captain Ukitake; how could she accidentally poison someone?”  
“She brought Captain Ukitake an interdepartmental report from R&D. Kurotsuchi had laced the letter itself with the poison,” Nanao explained. “She didn't see him open it, and she had no idea he’d been exposed to anything until she heard about his symptoms. She was very apologetic about it, and she stayed to see if she could help to reverse some of the damage it had done. I do believe she was completely innocent in the whole thing. It's too bad Kurotsuchi didn't talk it over with her ahead of time. She could have explained to him that he was really just making more trouble for himself. After this he’s almost certain to be under permanent oversight from Central 46.”  
“They should throw him in prison,” Rangiku declared, annoyed that even attempted murder seemed to be an excusable offense for a captain.  
“I think they're considering it an internal squabble that went a little too far,” Nanao answered.  
“Be Ukitake's turn to finish the squabble when he's up to it,” Kyoraku said, looking thoughtful. “Times like this I almost wish he had a temper. Wouldn't have been right for me to kill Kurotsuchi, but Ukitake could. Nobody'd complain.”  
Rangiku’s eyes widened at his suggestion. She couldn't even imagine the quiet, gentle captain drawing his zanpakuto on a fellow shinigami regardless of their crime. She secretly wondered, just like Kurotsuchi did, how Ukitake had ever managed to become a captain of the Gotei.  
“Don't be ridiculous,” Nanao replied. “Captain Ukitake’s not going to do anything. You've dealt with Kurotsuchi, and there won't be any further problems. All Captain Ukitake needs to worry about is getting better. Don't you dare tell him otherwise.”  
A huge grin spread across Kyoraku's face. “You're a good girl, Nanao-chan. You always take good care of all of us. You were worried too, weren't you?”  
“Of course I was. I have no idea what I would do with you if you lost Captain Ukitake. You’d probably start expecting me to keep you company twenty-four hours a day, and despite what you think my life does not revolve entirely around you. I do have other things I would like to do with at least some of my time.”  
Kyoraku smiled and patted Nanao’s head. “Of course you do, Nanao-chan, of course you do.”  
Rangiku thought Kyoraku was probably right. Nanao was about as likely to have anything she wanted to do for fun as Kyoraku was likely to want to do actual work. Then she remembered the actual work she had been doing at the division earlier, until Gin had interrupted her with a bit of fun, and she abruptly stopped walking.  
Nanao looked back at her in confusion. “What’s wrong, Rangiku?”  
“I left Kinta at the Tenth over an hour ago,” Rangiku said, looking a bit pale.  
You did have someone watching him?” Nanao said, eyes widening.  
“He’s probably screamed at them the whole time! I’ve got to go,” she said, vanishing before she’d finished speaking.


	30. Chapter 30

The tiny lieutenant of the Eleventh leapt past Hisagi Shuhei squealing, “Goldilocks!”  
He spun around to find a stunning strawberry-blond only a step behind him. She was laughing as Yachiru’s arms wrapped around her waist. Her wide gray eyes were sparkling with delight and her mouth was wide and expressive, open in an enormous grin.  
And was she ever built--Hisagi’s eyes widened as he took in cleavage that couldn’t possibly be allowed. She left every other female shinigami he’d ever seen in the dust. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed her before. He wasn’t sure what she was even doing here, at a lieutenants meeting. He hadn’t heard there was a new lieutenant.  
That’s when he finally noticed her badge. His eyes hadn’t wanted to leave her cleavage but the swaying hips did deserve a closer look, and the badge of the Tenth hung from her obi. The Tenth Division--they’d lost their captain over a year ago, and their lieutenant had been excused from the meetings since even before he’d made lieutenant. She’d been too busy holding her squad together to do general Gotei duties.  
It took him a second to realize she was actually speaking to him. “You must be Shuhei-kun,” she said. Her tone was warm and friendly, a complete contrast to the other lieutenants. “Please, call me Rangiku.”  
“It’s very nice to meet you, Rangiku-san,” Hisagi answered, bowing formally.  
She laughed at that. “You too, Shuhei-kun.”  
He spent basically the entire meeting staring at her chest. He really did try not to, but the way the woman moved! And it wasn’t like he was the only one. He was sure that was the reason for Iba’s dark glasses, and poor Sasakebi kept clearing his throat and looking at his notes.   
Shiba was the only man whose eyes didn’t keep slipping down when he spoke to the Tenth Lieutenant, but they obviously knew each other well, so he’d probably had a lot of practice. Shiba was also married, which Hisagi imagined would be helpful. The curvaceous Tenth would be a lot less tempting if he had a woman of his own to go home to.  
After the meeting, Hisagi found himself following after her. She was so friendly to everyone. He was sure she would be happy to talk to him a little longer. She was leaving the room arm in arm with Kurotsuchi Nemu, and he knew sustaining a conversation with Nemu required real determination.  
Hisagi got up and started after her, his eyes on her back as he dodged around the table and fellow lieutenants. He was just through the door when a small hand on his arm brought him to a halt.  
“You’re going to want to stop staring at Rangiku’s chest,” Lieutenant Ise said coolly, as she stepped beside him.  
“What are you talking about?” Hisagi asked, trying to sound confused but, unfortunately, turning bright red.  
“Just watch,” she said, nodding to the corner of the walkway just as Captain Ichimaru came into view.  
The captain was holding a small bundle that squirmed in his arms as he walked toward the lieutenants. It took an instant for Hisagi to realize what it was, the sight was so unexpected in the Gotei. The captain was carrying a small, beautiful, golden-haired baby. Hisagi had heard Ichimaru had children, but he hadn’t paid much attention at the time, other than to wonder what kind of woman would have married the very definitely creepy captain.  
The baby laughed and babbled happily at the lieutenants, and was greeted by smiling faces and happy comments on how much he’d grown. Everyone’s mood was lifted by the too rare sight of a baby in Seireitei. It was amazing to Hisagi how friendly everyone was, even to the unpopular captain, because of the baby.  
He watched Rangiku walk straight up to Ichimaru, smiling even more broadly than before. She held out her arms to the baby, and the little boy reached toward her, declaring, “Mama!”  
Hisagi suddenly felt sick to his stomach.  
“It could be very bad for your health if Captain Ichimaru was to catch you checking out his wife,” Nanao said very softly.  
“Why didn’t anyone say who she was?” Hisagi demanded, just as quietly. He still couldn’t believe it, even watching Rangiku snuggle the baby against her chest, and look up at Ichimaru with undeniable, and completely inexplicable, adoration. How could that warm and open woman belong to one of the least friendly and most uncaring men in the Gotei?  
“It never occurred to anyone you wouldn’t know Rangiku. Everyone knows her. It’s easy to forget how new you are, and she hasn’t been herself for this last year. She always used to go around introducing herself to everyone new, but she lost a close friend and then her captain right afterwards. I think this is the most I’ve seen her smile since Lady Kuchiki’s death.”  
Hisagi watched the captain speak to Rangiku, and he thought there might be a subtle difference to the way Ichimaru spoke to her. Maybe the fox-smile was a little less fake, but, still, it just didn’t make sense. “What’s she see in him?”  
“We all wonder, but we’re all too polite to ask,” Nanao said. “It’s one of the great mysteries of the Gotei 13, right up there with what is Captain Kurotsuchi hiding under all that makeup?”  
“I think I need a drink,” Hisagi said, looking once more at the stunning woman who belonged to Ichimaru. A perfect baby and a perfect wife for one of the worst men in the Gotei, fate was clearly evil. “What about you?” he added, noticing Lieutenant Ise was looking at the family with a similar expression.  
“Please,” Nanao said, turning her back on the sometimes a little too nauseatingly happy Rangiku.


	31. Chapter 31

Rangiku kept a very tight grip on Toshiro’s wrist. She wished she could have strapped him to her back like she used to, but that was Kinta’s place now. It amazed her how much more complicated a second child made everything. She was just fortunate Toshiro was so helpful. He was carrying a pack full of diapers and extra clothes and snacks as well as both of their lunches, and a picnic blanket that it looked very unlikely there was any possibility they were going to be able to use.  
The crowd was nearly overwhelming. A constant flood of black garbed shinigami was pushing forward, moving in a steady current toward the Academy. A huge event was promised for the day. As a celebration of its one thousandth year, the Academy was hosting a display such as the Gotei had never seen before. There would be everything from kendo matches for prize money to kido masters displaying some of their most complicated bakudo and hado. Most exciting of all, in the evening, several captains were promised to display their shikai, including General Yamamoto and Captain Aizen.  
Gin was not going to be showing his; in his own words, ‘it didn’t look like much’, but he was still expected to join all the other captains in presiding over the events. So Rangiku was on her own with the boys.  
Even Toshiro couldn’t quite completely contain his excitement and kept dragging his mother forward. He was desperate not to miss anything though it was only barely dawn, and another hour before the festival officially commenced.  
Rangiku had to give him credit, though. Somehow, by the time they reached the Academy itself, they had made their way to the leading edge of the crowd. They worked their way into the temporary arena and began climbing the stairs down to the lowest level where it looked like there might still be a few open seats.  
They were shuffling their way past some recent graduates who looked like they must have slept outside the gates just to get their perfect seats, when someone called their names. “Lieutenant Ichimaru, Shiro-chan!”  
They both turned to see their once neighbor, Kira Izuru, waving them down to a pair of free seats on the very first row.  
Toshiro yanked his arm out of his mother’s grip and hopped the two rows to land gracefully in front of Kira. A couple of people looked a little annoyed that he had vaulted over their heads, but, after a second consideration, Rangiku decided he had the best plan and hopped after him.  
Someone started to complain, but one raised eyebrow from Lieutenant Ichimaru shut him up.  
“Lieutenant Ichimaru, Shiro-chan, it’s good to see you again,” Kira told them, bowing as well as he could in the cramped space.  
“It's Toshiro,” Toshiro told him, just as his mother pushed past him to hug Kira.  
“It is so good to see you!” Rangiku exclaimed. “Look at you! All grown up! It makes me feel so old! You have to call me Rangiku or I’m going to feel ancient! How is Rumiko-ba-chan? Are these friends of yours?”  
Kira blinked at the rapid flow of her words.”Grandma is always good. I think she'll be here somewhere today with my aunt, but I doubt we'll see her in this crowd,” he answered. He glanced back at a very small brunette girl and a redhead with impressive tattoos and tried to smile. “This is Abarai Renji and Hinamori Momo. We went to the Academy together and all joined Division Five. Hinamori-san is still there but Renji’s in Eleven now and I’m in Four.”  
“Four! Just like your grandma!” Rangiku grinned hugely and turned to the others. “Hello, I’m Rangiku! Please call me Rangiku and not Ichimaru-san or Lieutenant Ichimaru--it always makes me feel old when I don't just forget and think you’re talking to my husband, and that gets really confusing. These two are Shiro-chan and Kin-chan--we were Kira-kun’s neighbors for years, and it’s so good to see him again, and to meet you too. It’s really nice to meet you!”  
Both of the younger shinigami bowed and agreed it was nice to meet her. Then Renji couldn’t help adding, “You said your husband?”  
“Oh?” Rangiku turned toward a raised platform at the opposite end of the playing field where several of the current twelve captains were already sitting. “Gin’s the one who’s sleeping,” she told Renji.  
Gin was laying his head on his arms, folded on the tabletop. He did appear to be sleeping. Captain Soifon looked as annoyed as she usually did to be stuck next to him. It really was unfortunate that he had to be captain of the Third Division, not that there were a lot of captains he could have sat next to without irritating. Rangiku thought they all should just be grateful he was there on time. That had taken a lot of effort on her part.  
“You-you’re Captain Ichimaru’s wife?” Renji said, and Hinamori shared his shocked expression.  
Rangiku’s smile only grew. “That’s me,” she agreed.  
Toshiro, next to her, was looking very embarrassed. His parents definitely left something to be desired. Both Kira and Renji were obviously having trouble not looking at his mother’s chest. He’d started to noticed that recently. His mother seemed to mesmerize men, especially the younger ones. At first it had annoyed him that people stared, but then he realized she seemed to enjoy it and that just annoyed him so much more. People’s reactions to his father were even worse. Amazement at the fact that his father was a captain was followed by a sort of horrified realization of which captain his father was and then finally there was pity. He wanted to protest and tell them his dad wasn’t as bad as they thought, but he was pretty sure that would be lying. His dad was probably worse than they imagined.  
Hinamori smiled down at him like she could guess what he was thinking. “I bet you must be pretty amazing too, huh, Shiro-chan, if your father’s a captain and your mother’s a lieutenant?” she asked.  
He shrugged. “They say I’m not old enough to go to the Academy.”  
“You will be pretty soon,” she told him. “And when you graduate you can join Division Five with me. Captain Aizen takes all the top students.”  
“I’ve worked with Captain Aizen lots,” Toshiro answered. “Because my dad was his lieutenant.”  
“That’s right,” Hinamori agreed, smiling. “He was. I bet when you get to the Academy you’re going to be so far ahead they’ll let you skip a couple years.”  
“I think his father will be disappointed if he takes more than a year to get through,” Rangiku said, feeling a little annoyed at the patronizing tone the girl was taking with her son. He might be a child, but he didn’t need some cute little girl patting him on the head and telling him how clever he was. He was probably a good deal smarter than Hinamori.  
“A year?” Renji said in shock.  
Rangiku smiled. “That’s how long Gin took--Captain Aizen says he’s a genius and so is Toshiro.”  
They all three looked properly impressed. Toshiro just rolled his eyes. He could stand up for himself. He didn’t need her to tell people he was a genius; he could prove it any time he wanted to.  
The events began soon after and Toshiro managed to sit between Kira and Hinamori which he considered a major win, and later he convinced his mother to leave him with Kira while she and Kinta went and ate lunch with Gin.  
Toshiro talked with Hinamori and Kira during the kido display about the theory behind each presentation, and Rangiku found herself exchanging lost expressions with Renji. She appreciated that she could depend on the Squad Eleven member to be even more useless than she was with kido theory.   
She really wasn't half bad with kido these days. She'd made an extra effort after Shiro-chan was born, and she realized Isshin wasn't going to let her fight anymore. Kido could still be useful in a backup capacity. But the theory behind it--as she listened to her son talk to Hinamori and Kira, she found herself wondering how many books he must have read on the subject.  
“Any idea what they're talking about?” she finally asked Renji.  
He shook his head. “Only thing I can do with kido is blow myself up.”  
Rangiku grinned. “Sounds about right for Eleven, but if you want to move up the ranks you should try to get a few Hado down well enough to use without a chant. You could ask Yu-chan to help you train; he’s actually very good with kido, and pretty much the only one in Eleven who is.”  
“Yu-chan?” Renji repeated, looking a little doubtful. “You mean Fifth Seat Ayasegawa-san?”  
Rangiku grinned at that. It had been a terribly long time since she'd had to use last names and titles for senior officers. She'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be at the bottom of the pecking order. “Yumichika will be happy to help you, I'm sure,” she told Renji, although she was pretty sure Yumichika was more likely to be annoyed and sarcastic, but he would help Renji out if he asked and that was the whole point.  
Renji frowned. “Shouldn't I leave the senior staff alone? I'm only fifteenth seat. In Division Five you had to be invited to get individual training. Hinamori and Kira both got to train with Captain Aizen. I got transferred.”  
“Every division’s different,” Rangiku answered. “Aizen picks the best. One and two are both status based and good places to be if you're nobility. Ten tries to get everyone up to a sort of middle ground, and if possible find one area where each member can excel. I'm afraid Gin’s method is pretty much to force everyone to work as hard as they can by humiliating anyone who dares to slack off. It's not pretty--but in Eleven it's all about wanting to get stronger. You want it, they'll help you get there; they might kill you in the process so don't ask for something you can't handle, but you ask for training, they don't care who you are, they'll give you all you can take. Yu-chan, Ikkaku, and even Kenpachi will work with you if you’ve got the reiatsu to make a mark on him. I wouldn't recommend it though, not unless you're in a hurry to die for some reason.”  
Renji nodded, a very determined look appearing on his face. “Maybe I’ll ask--”  
He was interrupted by an enormous explosion that rocked the entire stadium despite the barriers that had been placed by multiple kido masters to contain it. Kinta, sitting on Rangiku's lap, burst out laughing while the rest of the audience clapped.   
“What was that?” Rangiku demanded, wrapping one arm around Kinta’s waist to stop the baby as he lunged toward the fading flames. She'd stopped paying attention when the barriers started going up. They were taking such a long time.  
“Hado 88,” Toshiro answered. “Maybe you should be paying attention. You are a lieutenant.”  
“I became a lieutenant so I wouldn't have to pay attention anymore,” she told Toshiro. “I've delegated paying attention to the Fifth and Sixth Seats. As soon as I can find someone to assign to cover for me at lieutenants meetings my only job will be napping in the captain’s office. I’ll practically be a captain.”  
“I think Dad’s the only captain who just naps in his office,” Toshiro answered.  
“Shows what you know,” Rangiku answered, then remembering her audience of young, impressionable shinigami, she said, “I'm joking, of course. All the lieutenants and captains are always working very hard, aren’t we, Shiro-chan?”  
He raised an eyebrow. “Maybe when you're not napping,” he granted.  
“You know Daddy works overnight three or four nights a week so maybe napping isn't really the right word for it.”  
Toshiro wanted to tell her he knew for a fact that his father was only scheduled to work two nights every other week and he had yet to figure out where Gin was going the rest of the time. But he knew better than to mention that in front of strangers, and he was pretty sure he wasn't ever going to tell her at all, because he really liked how much less depressed she'd been recently and knowing his father was lying to her would probably make her miserable all over again. So he rolled his eyes and muttered, “Whatever,” and left Kira and his friends to wonder at the odd relationship between Toshiro and his parents.  
The rest of the day was fantastic, one of the best in Toshiro's short life. Captain Aizen's water-type shikai was startlingly beautiful and no one could be unimpressed by the General’s overwhelming flames. Both strengthened Toshiro's resolve to master his bankai, a decision he hadn't mentioned to his father. He was going to do it on his own, to prove he could stand on his own, and it wasn't because of his father that he made it so far. He was strong all on his own.


	32. Chapter 32

Gin barely made it in time. His friend on guard duty was running out of excuses to stop Rangiku, and she was very clearly losing her temper.  
“I am the Division Ten Lieutenant. I have shown you all the proper authorization to visit the World of the Living,” Rangiku said, her voice just short of shouting. “Now get the hell out of my way before I decide to find out just how rusty my kido is.”  
“Now that’s not at all nice, Ran-chan,” Gin said, walking coolly toward the gate. “Threatening these poor men for doing their job.”  
“Captain!” both men said, drawing to attention the moment they saw him.  
Rangiku’s eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”   
“Again, not nice! What has gotten into you today, Ran-chan?” he asked, stepping close enough to touch her. “Usually you’re in such a good mood. Are things not going your way?”  
“Gin,” she said in that tone that warned him he was pushing his luck. “Why are you here?”  
“Why are you, Ran-chan? Surely you don’t intend to disregard your captain’s standing orders,” he said, still sounding perfectly pleasant.  
“I don’t have a captain anymore,” she answered, forcing the words between gritted teeth. Oh, yes, she knew exactly why he was here, and she had absolutely no intention of being told what she could and could not do by him.  
“Still,” Gin answered. “I don’t see how that changes your orders. The reason for them still exists. In fact--” he looked around quickly. “What have you done with Kin-chan?”  
“Miyako has him. You don’t think I’m so stupid I’d take a baby to the World of the Living, do you?” Rangiku demanded.  
Gin considered that for a moment. “You’re not always the most careful person, are you, Ran-chan? One can never be quite sure what you’re going to do. That’s why you have orders, to keep you within reasonable boundaries.”  
“Reasonable boundaries?” Rangiku repeated. “Reasonable? So I need to be kept in these ‘reasonable boundaries’ like some little kid who might wander off and get hurt if the grown ups don’t keep a constant eye on me? It’s nice to know exactly how much respect you have for me!”  
“Ran-chan, you know better than that,” he said, reaching for her hand.  
She jerked back. “No, I don’t. You’re always trying to protect me. You shield me from every little thing. Maybe it is because you think I just can’t handle it. Fine! I don’t care. You can go ahead and try, but you’re not my captain, and I don’t belong to your division, so this time it isn’t your decision. I’m going to go to the World of the Living and I’m going to check on my men stationed there, and then I’m going to buy some chocolate, and then I’m going to come home. I’ll see you later.”  
She turned on her heels and walked directly toward the gate.  
“Lieutenant Ichimaru,” Gin said, his voice no longer warm and friendly. It was the voice of a captain, the voice of command.  
Rangiku stopped, but she didn’t turn around. Even from behind her tension could be seen in the way she stood.  
“You will not go to the World of the Living until you have received permission from your captain, do you understand?”  
“Yes, captain,” she said, her voice so strong and steady no one but Gin caught the anger and hurt she was holding back.  
An instant later she vanished, using shunpo to escape the humiliation of crying in front of everyone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“Captain Aizen!” Toshiro declared in surprise, the moment he pulled open the front door. He couldn't remember his father's former captain ever visiting his house before, not that he wasn't glad to see the captain. He really thought the worst thing about his father becoming captain of the Third was the fact that he no longer got to visit with Aizen a few times a month.  
“Hello, Toshiro-kun,” Aizen said, smiling down at the boy. “Is your father home?”  
“Yeah, but Mom isn't. Dad probably did something again, and she's not going to come home till she's REALLY, REALLY DRUNK!” he shouted the last bit down the hall for his father's benefit.  
Gin immediately appeared in the hall. “Home al--” he broke off, seeing Aizen in the entry, and the smile on his face faded.  
He bowed politely. “Good evening, Captain Aizen.”   
Aizen smiled. “No need to be so formal, Gin-kun. We are equals now, are we not?”  
Gin’s smile returned. “Of course, old habits--come in, sir. Shiro must have told you Rangiku isn't here, and I'm afraid Kinta isn't either. It's just the two of us, but you are welcome to join us. Shiro was just showing me how he can make better tea than I can--why don't you go finish up, Shiro?”  
Toshiro rolled his eyes and stalked off to the kitchen in annoyance. He could tell when he was being gotten rid of. Sure, he’d been telling his father he made awful tea and even Toshiro could do better, but he hadn't been offering.  
Gin led Aizen to his office which was the only room that remained neat on a daily basis. It was unfortunate that he had to lead Aizen past several open doors first, displaying rooms cluttered with toys, books, clothing, and food. Aizen would choose to visit the day before he intended to assign a few victims to clean the house--he really had to thank Miyako for that sometime.  
“It looks like you all have adjusted to the new house very well,” Aizen said, kindly. “It feels very comfortable here. It's become a happy family home, not simply a captain’s residence.”  
Gin hid the flinch at that comment behind a smile. Aizen was guessing far too much simply by looking at the house. “Ran’s a terrible housekeeper. I make my division members clean up from time to time--it's so much fun watching Kuchiki's second cousin scrub the bath, but I can't keep up with Ran and the kids. I'm thinking about setting up a rotation, just random enough that they're sure I'm picking certain people on purpose, and they all waste hours trying to figure out how to get out of it.”  
He opened the door to his office and ushered Aizen inside. The office was, as always, immaculate. There was no sign of anything personal, not a photo or even a book that you wouldn't have found in every other captain’s office. In fact they had all been the property of the previous captain, and Gin had only removed books that might have held special interest to that captain. He had not added a thing. The office was just like his smile, completely unreadable.  
“I was very concerned when you didn't show up this afternoon,” Aizen said as he sat in a comfortable leather chair in front of the desk.  
Gin’s smile only grew and he said, “Oops,” doing his best not to give away the fact that, until the moment he saw Aizen in his home, he had completely forgotten they were meeting today.  
Entirely missing a meeting was a first, but under normal circumstances Aizen probably would have disregarded it. Gin had made an art of being undependable and irritating at all times. That included his interactions within their conspiracy. Aizen had never quite decided if it was simply a personality trait or if it was a part Gin had adopted for his benefit as well as for the rest of the Gotei. It was one of many things that made Gin more interesting than the average shinigami. But today he had slipped up. It was a little too obvious that Rangiku had distracted him from his duty.  
Despite his really impressive performances, ignoring and disregarding his wife and family and any needs they might have, she had upset him. Stopping her had been reasonable, whatever his actual feelings were for the woman. He would be stuck with raising the boys on his own if something happened to her, and that would clearly be worth any amount of effort to avoid, but missing the meeting afterwards? Gin had very clearly been upset himself at having upset Rangiku. “It was wise of you to stop dear Rangiku,” Aizen said. “There's no telling what kind of trouble she might have gotten herself into.  
“I must say I am impressed, Gin-kun,” he added. “I never expected you to take to married life as you have done. You’ve become quite the family man, looking after the wife and children. One might have to call you responsible.”  
“Now you're just picking on me, sir!” Gin protested. “I haven't done anything to deserve that!”  
Aizen smiled thoughtfully at Gin’s childish protest, and wondered as he often did what Gin’s family actually meant to him. “You were the most ambitious child I have ever met,” he said, softly. “It is quite the surprise to find that in the end you are content with the most ordinary of lives. I have always heard that having a family changes a man; I should not be surprised to find that it is true.”  
“Changed?” Gin said, still smiling. “I suppose I have gotten comfortable in this little life. Who would complain about taking Rangiku to bed every night? And I do enjoy watching all my little squad members scurry about trying to keep me happy. But I don't change. As long as there is greater power to be grasped, I will do anything to attain it--but that's our deal, isn't it, Captain Aizen? You will lead the way to the ultimate power.”  
Aizen smiled, trying to read behind Gin’s smiling mask. The hunger was real; he was certain of that. Years of watching the boy grow into a man had confirmed that Gin was driven by a constant hunger, but whether it was really power he sought or something else Aizen was never sure. It was part of the fascinating puzzle that was Ichimaru Gin. From the day the boy had, smiling, admitted to killing a senior officer just to take his place, and Aizen had read Gin’s intention to kill him too in those smiling, slitted eyes, he had known Gin would be the most entertaining of slaves. His only frustration was in how little he had learned of Gin in all the years that had passed. After all these years he could still not even say why Gin wanted him dead.  
“Hey, Dad, open the door!” Toshiro shouted through the closed door, and Gin hopped up to let the boy in, carrying a tea tray and grumbling about how annoying the closed door had been.  
“Toshiro-kun,” Aizen said, as he took an offered cup. “It has been too long since you have visited the Fifth. I think you must have grown an inch since I last saw you.” And with that one statement Aizen regained his status as one of Toshiro's favorite adults.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

For the entire rest of the day Rangiku kept expecting Gin to show up, not to apologize, of course; he never did that, but he usually tried for some angry sex, followed by some nice make-up sex, none of which ever solved anything, but it was pretty good for making her forget why she was mad in the first place. This time Rangiku thought she might take a page out of Nanao’s book and try smashing something over his head to get across exactly how not happy she was with him at the moment.  
But he never did show up, and when evening came, she realized she was simply not in the mood to go home and fight it out. Instead she packed Kin-chan into the baby sling, which he was far less cooperative about than Shiro-chan had been, and was always trying to climb out of, and together, the two of them set out for a popular sakeya, where she was willing to bet at least a few of her friends were already getting drunk.  
It didn’t take her long to find a table to join. Half the lieutenants had gathered, along with Ikkaku and Yumichika of Eleven, who really were practically lieutenants anyway, and they were all ordering their first round of drinks and snacks.  
Rangiku quickly squeezed into the almost nonexistent space between Ikkaku and Yumichika and found herself across from Nanao, who was sandwiched between Nemu, who looked like she couldn’t figure out what she was doing there, and Hisagi, Tosen’s new lieutenant.  
“Long time, no see,” Ikkaku exclaimed, grinning at Rangiku. “Did you finally leave him?”  
Rangiku rolled her eyes. “Are you ever going to get tired of asking me that?”  
Ikkaku shook his head, looking doubtful. “Not till you leave him.”  
“Ikkaku doesn’t have manners,” Yumichika said dryly. Then he held out a piece of fried squid to Kinta. “Would you like some squid?”  
“He can’t eat--” Rangiku broke off as the baby shoved the entire leg into his mouth and held out his hands, declaring, “More.”  
“Here, you feed him,” Rangiku said, pulling the baby from the sling and shoving him into Yumichika’s arms. “He only has six teeth though, so he can’t just eat anything.”  
Kinta seemed to disagree with his mother's assessment. He had already managed to get ahold of another piece of squid and was forcing it in after the first.  
“Is Shiro home with Captain Ichimaru?” Nanao asked.  
“Should be,” Rangiku answered, before taking a swig of sake. “Nanao-chan, can he really give me orders?” she demanded. “Can he really tell me I can’t go to the World of the Living? He’s not my captain.”  
Nanao frowned. “You know any captain can issue you orders as long as they don’t interfere with your own division responsibilities. They’re just mostly polite enough not to. No one likes another captain messing with their men.”  
“Well, damn,” Rangiku exclaimed, picking up her sake and finishing it in one swift gulp. “That is absolutely not healthy for a relationship.”  
“You should refuse to sleep with him,” Ikkaku suggested, looking pleased.  
“Because using sex as a weapon is healthy?” Rangiku answered in annoyance.  
Hisagi bumped into Nanao, spilling her cup and his all over himself. He apologized over and over again, so politely and intensely, while Nanao told him she was fine, thank you, more than once, and Rangiku couldn’t help bursting out laughing. The boy was helpless, and terrified of Nanao, but that was probably wise on his part.  
“You see,” Ikkaku said, when Rangiku’s laughter faded and everyone had a new drink. “That’s what a lack of sex does to a man. He loses all confidence and starts stumbling all over himself trying to keep the ladies happy.”  
“Or he runs about violently slaughtering things,” Yumichika put in, but Ikkaku ignored him.  
Across the table poor Hisagi was blushing violently and trying to look very interested in what Iba, on his other side, was telling Omaeda, who had clearly only been invited to pay for things.  
“And I’ll bet it would even wipe that permanent grin off Ichimaru’s face,” Ikkaku concluded. “And that is something that every last one of us would love to see.”  
“Nope,” Rangiku said after she threw back yet another glass. “His grin just gets bigger. It's a lie anyway so his worst moods come with his biggest grins.”  
“Oh, yeah?” Ikkaku said.  
“Yep,” Rangiku nodded. “I have never found anything that could make him stop smiling.”  
She sat forward and poured herself another drink. “No, wait,” she said, pausing long enough to take another drink. “Shiro-chan,” she declared. “Shiro-chan definitely made him stop smiling.”  
Nanao frowned. “I always thought Captain Ichimaru was fond of Shiro, as much as he’s ever been fond of anyone besides you.”  
Rangiku shook her head. “Well, of course, he loves Shiro-chan now, who wouldn’t? But when he found out...” she grinned hugely. It all seemed very funny in retrospect, the way Gin had panicked and the way she had too. They had been so young and scared.  
“He panicked, didn’t he?” Ikkaku said.  
“Who wouldn’t?” Yumichika answered, before Rangiku could.  
“Why’s that?” Hisagi asked, risking rejoining the conversation now that Gin was their focus.  
Nanao sighed. “Captain Ichimaru and Rangiku had to get married because somebody messed up their kido,” she said dryly.  
“That would be me,” Rangiku offered.  
“Little Shiro-chan was born--what was it, two months? After they were married,” Nanao continued seriously. “The Gotei 13 calls its members to a higher standard, but what can you really expect from a couple of street urchins from Rukongai?”  
Rangiku stuck out her tongue at Nanao. “The only difference between street urchins of Rukongai and nobles of Seireitei is a lack of funds to pay someone else to do the kido so you have the chance to screw it up yourself.”  
Hisagi was blushing again as well as showing the typical terror reaction to unplanned pregnancy by the time she finished speaking. “But-but the kido is foolproof; that-that’s what I heard,” he managed to stutter out.  
“Not foolproof,” Rangiku disagreed. “A fool can definitely mess it up. I would know.”  
“I don’t understand,” Nemu put in. She had been listening to the conversation in growing confusion. “Isn’t the purpose of sexual intercourse to procreate? Why would you engage in such an activity while using kido to prevent its success?”  
Hisagi spilled his sake again, this time managing to include Nanao in the splash radius.  
Rangiku burst out laughing. “Nemu, I love you!” she told the confused girl. “I really do! You’re absolutely fantastic!”  
“What have I done that is fantastic?” Nemu asked.  
“I can’t believe we tried to set you up with Captain Ukitake,” Rangiku declared. “You’re years from anything like that. We’re going to have to begin your education from the very bottom, maybe below the bottom--is there a below the bottom?”  
“Like a basement?” Ikkaku offered.  
“Yep!” Rangiku agreed. “We are going to have to start your education in the basement, Nemu, basic animal attraction.”  
“Oh, but I already find Captain Ukitake attractive,” Nemu told her. “He is tall and has very kind eyes and gentle hands. I would like his kind eyes to look at me and his gentle hands to touch me; is that not attraction?”  
It was Nanao’s turn to choke on her sake. “Nemu,” she said as soon as she could speak again. “You may think things like that, but you never say them aloud.”  
“Why not?” Nemu asked. “I do not understand why Rangiku-san is the only one who is permitted to admit an attraction. Is it because she is married? Or is it because the children are clear evidence of attraction on both Captain Ichimaru and Rangiku-san’s parts? Is that why Toshiro was a mistake? Because he was undeniable evidence of their attraction, and sharing feelings of attraction publicly is taboo?”  
Rangiku burst out laughing, and this time most of the others joined in. For one thing it was better than trying to work out how to answer Nemu. For another the answer to those questions was a little more uncomfortable than anyone wanted to admit.  
“I am afraid you must be right, Rangiku-san. I do not seem to understand any of this at all,” Nemu said, looking discouraged. “My education must start in the basement.”  
“Sorry, Nemu,” Rangiku apologized. “I’ll try to explain later, when I’m a little less drunk. I think I’ll probably make a lot more sense then.”  
“Rangiku,” Nanao said, feeling it was time to shift topics. “Do you know if Kaien-san is working on bankai? There have been rumors recently.”  
Rangiku’s eyes widened. “Who would have told you something like that?” she asked with a poor attempt at ignorance.  
“So it’s true,” Yumichika said, as he pulled a skewer of meat away from Kinta and traded him for a small bowl of shelled edamame. “Is he going to try to take Captain Isshin’s place?”  
“I don’t think there is anyone else who could,” Nanao looked around the group. “Unless one of you has been holding out on us?”  
“I wish I was even close,” Rangiku declared, grinning hugely. “Gin would have a heart attack!”  
“What about you, Ikkaku?” Iba said with a drunken grin. “I remember rumors back in the day that you were working on bankai. You still haven’t gotten there?”  
“What the hell would I want to learn bankai for?” Ikkaku demanded. “I can already kill all the hallows I want. The Captain thinks the whole thing’s a waste of time anyway.”  
“I suppose one might try,” Yumichika said. “Just to see if one could, but generally, excluding Senbonzakura of course, bankai are inelegant. If you can’t look beautiful while you fight why even bother?”  
“So you don’t want to be a captain?” Iba said, turning toward Yumichika. “What is with you two? Doesn’t anybody in Eleven have any ambition anymore?”  
“I really don’t think the haori would suit me,” Yumichika said. “It’s so--white.”  
“Someday I’ll be strong enough to fight the Captain,” Ikkaku said. “That’s my ambition.”  
“I wish I was ambitious,” Rangiku said. “Maybe if I was I could master bankai and become a captain--wouldn’t that drive everybody crazy, two Captain Ichimarus? But it sounds like so much work! Gin still calls my shikai shit just ‘cause I can’t get it fast enough to counter him--who can move fast enough to counter him, I’d like to know! I’m not a freaking Kuchiki!”   
Rangiku sat back, frowning at her empty cup. “Damn it!” she said suddenly. “I’m drunk!”  
“You have been for a while, dear,” Yumichika told her.  
“But if I go home drunk I won’t even manage to tell Gin off before he gets me in bed, and then he always wins! It’s really not fair!” She looked across the table to the two other women and said, “Nemu, Nanao, listen carefully. Never, ever sleep with anyone smarter than you are, ‘cause they figure out all your little buttons, and they know exactly how to play their cards so they win every single time, and you’re completely helpless--but you’re both a lot smarter than me so you’ll probably be fine, and most men are idiots.”  
“Oi!” Ikkaku protested. “Don't go lumping me in with Ichimaru!”  
“Oh?” Rangiku turned to Ikkaku, looking surprised. “I’m not. That's the problem! Gin’s not an idiot. He's always thinking ten steps ahead, and it's not fair. He must have already told the guards at the Senkaimon to stall me if I tried to go to the World of the Living and to let him know so he could come stop me. How unfair is that? It hadn't even occurred to me to try till today! I'm tempted to try to lead a mission into Rukongai, just to see what he's got planned, but I really don't want to find out that half my division actually answers to the captain of the Third.”  
“That would be a serious breach of regulation,” Nanao said. “That's interfering with your division. He could be sanctioned for that.”  
“Do you think he cares? Seriously? Stupid captains, they do whatever the hell they feel like. I bet Kurotsuchi hasn’t changed one thing since he was sanctioned—has he, Nemu?”  
“He is very irritated by the constant interruptions to experiments that we must take to explain our work to the First Division regulators,” Nemu answered. “And our volunteer testing program has been put on hold until the regulators go away. It is a great inconvenience.”  
“See!” Rangiku said. “That’s all they’ve managed, to be irritating and cause some inconvenience. Why would I bother to report Gin? I’ll bet I can be way more irritating than any sanction.”  
“I’m sure that’s true,” Nanao agreed.  
“You know something?” Hisagi announced a little drunkenly. “When I was a kid a shinigami saved my life, and I didn’t care what everybody said; I thought you guys were the best, like superheroes or something. You were like the protectors of truth and justice, and the captains, I thought they had to be the best people in the universe, so much better than the rest of us, because they stand guard over the world and protect everyone--really sucks most of them turned out to be such assholes.”  
“Gin’s not--” Rangiku slumped forward onto the table. “Who am I kidding? My husband is a total asshole.”  
Yumichika patted her on the shoulder. “I am sure there are worse things he could be,” he said in a tone that was clearly meant to be comforting.  
“Kinda hard to think of anything,” Ikkaku said.  
Rangiku sighed. “And I still love him. There’s probably something wrong with me, loving someone like him. Oh, well, it doesn’t seem to have damaged Shiro-chan.” She turned her head slowly to look at Kinta who had slumped against Yumichika and was chewing on another squid leg drowsily. “What about you, kiddo?” she asked the baby. “You gonna be ok?”  
Kinta pulled the squid from his mouth and offered it to her. “Bite?”  
She smiled. “You’re gonna be just fine.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“Why?”  
Gin stopped abruptly. He had foolishly thought he’d escaped. He’d rushed out of the house with Toshiro while Rangiku was still getting Kinta dressed, declaring they were late for breakfast, and he had something he wanted to show Toshiro before morning exercises.  
They’d made it nearly to the mess hall. They could already see members of the division hurrying to get breakfast before the hall closed. But she’d come after him.  
“Go get breakfast, Shiro,” Gin said before he turned around.  
“Here,” Rangiku said, pushing the baby into Toshiro’s arms. “Get your brother some rice pudding.”  
Toshiro frowned but didn’t argue. He’d known the baby would mean more work for him. It was inevitable knowing his parents. He just rolled his eyes and carried Kinta with him, leaving them to whatever stupid talk they wanted to have on their own.   
He wished his mom was angry enough to really tell his dad off, but that was wishful thinking. Most likely she’d reappear in an hour or two, all smiles, having totally forgotten she was mad in the first place. His dad could get away with anything. She probably couldn’t even stay mad at him if he murdered someone.  
Rangiku watched Toshiro walk away before she repeated her question. “Why?”  
“You know the reason for the order, Ran,” Gin said, not meeting her eyes. “I really do have work to do this morning. Do you think we could do this later?”  
“You humiliated me in public! Everyone in Seireitei knows my husband told me I’m not allowed to go to the World of the Living! How am I supposed to lead my division when my men all think I’m some poor little wife who takes orders from her husband--who’s also the captain of another division!”  
“I’m working on getting you a new captain,” Gin answered. “I think Shiba will give in eventually. I just need to keep pointing out his duty to the Gotei. It’s nice to know there are some people who really are as noble as we all pretend to be.”  
“I don’t need a new captain! I need my husband to mind his own business, and more than that, I need him to respect me as a fellow shinigami. I am the equal of any other lieutenant in the Gotei. I--”  
“Don’t be so modest, Ran. You’re better than most,” Gin said, cutting short her speech.  
Rangiku stared at him in shock. “What?” she said slowly.  
“You handle your zanpakuto well. You’ve brought Haineko closer to Senbonzakura than I ever expected. You’ve integrated shunpo into your fighting style, which is rare, even among lieutenants, and makes your moves much more difficult to predict; you’ve even mastered kido, which I never expected. I didn’t think you’d have the patience, but being able to hit someone in the face with a Hado in the middle of a fight is very effective. You’re very good, Ran,” he went through each point seriously, managing to shock Rangiku further with every word he said. “I’m sure no one in your division takes you lightly even if you do listen to your husband on occasion.”  
“If you actually think that then why the hell do you keep trying to protect me?” she demanded, feeling like she might have to smack him if he didn’t start making sense soon.  
“Isn’t it obvious?” Gin said, looking puzzled by her question.  
“If you know I’m strong enough--”  
“There’s no such thing as strong enough,” he interrupted. “Isshin and Suzuki both found that out.”  
Rangiku took a deep breath. Yes, Isshin and Suzuki had run into things they couldn’t handle. Yes, there were terrible, powerful beings out there that could make complete mincemeat of her if she didn’t run fast enough, but things like that were rare, and she couldn’t live in fear. “The chances of me running into something like they did on a routine check of the World of the Living--”  
“I can’t risk it.”  
“You can’t risk it?” Rangiku demanded, her anger returning. “Why can’t you get it through your head? It’s not your call. It doesn’t matter what you want to risk. This is about me and the fact that I have a job to do, and if there is a risk I have a responsibility to face it, like every other member of my division. You are getting in the way of me doing my job, and if you don’t stop I am going to file an official complaint.”  
“Don’t be silly, Ran--”  
“Don’t tell me what to do! You know you have no business telling me what to do. You know--”  
“I know that I would break every rule and defy every command to keep you safe. File a complaint if you want, but I’m never going to allow you to put yourself in danger. You’re not going to the World of the Living, and you’re not leading any missions to hunt hallows. You’re going to stay in Seireitei where I can at least keep an eye on you.”  
“What do you mean ‘keep an eye on me’?” Rangiku demanded. “What are you, a stalker?”  
He tilted his head to one side, thinking for a moment, before asking, “What would you consider stalking?”  
She stared at him for a moment, before finally shaking her head and turning away. “I think I need to sit down,” she said, starting slowly back in the direction of their home.  
“Ran--”  
“Let me think a minute,” she said, rubbing her head as she continued to walk home. She had always assumed the reason Gin had been against her going on missions was because he thought she was weak. He’d always claimed she was. Every time they sparred he always went on about everything she did wrong, about how weak her attacks were, how she lacked force and speed and follow through. Really, she thought he considered her an extremely weak fighter, and that was why he didn’t want her fighting. But if he believed she was strong and still was this obsessed with keeping her safe, what exactly did that mean? It certainly wasn’t rational. Of course, neither was stalking her--the question had been a joke. She knew he kept an eye on everyone, and she was a part of everyone, so of course he kept an eye on her too. He liked to know what was going on. That was reasonable-ish--for a captain. They were all crazy.  
But stalking her? What the hell? Was he watching her more than he did everyone else? What sort of sense did that make? She never did anything. Why would he waste time and energy on her?  
She sat down on the front step when she reached the house. Gin sat down beside her and watched her with that faux innocent expression of his. His expressions never gave anything away--except that when he used one she knew there was something else he was feeling that he wanted to hide.  
Always hiding everything he felt for as long as she’d known him, Gin was a very obvious sort of crazy. You had to carefully read his actions to figure out what he really felt about anything. She did her best, but right now she was feeling like she had missed something obvious. He seemed to be a lot more focused on her than she’d previously realized.  
There was a certain amount of being concerned about the health and safety of your spouse that was perfectly reasonable, but stalking her, trying to control where she went and what she did, that wasn’t even a little bit okay. Had he always been like this? Was it possible she just hadn’t noticed?  
She turned to meet his oh-so-innocent gaze and wondered, as she often did, what was going on behind that mask. What drove him to watch her and try to control her? Was it fear or just some sort of obsessive need for power? She couldn’t tell. Usually she could sort of read behind the mask, but this time she had no clue.  
“You do know you’re crazy, don’t you?” she asked him finally.  
He smiled hugely, an enormous Cheshire Cat grin. “We’re all mad here,” he quoted.  
There it was, that careless acknowledgement of reality. That was how he always did admit things, as a joke. He knew he’d gone too far and was acting more than a little crazy. Maybe if she joked with him, he’d let her know just a little bit more. “You’re extra-crazy,” she teased. “Extra-extra-crazy.”  
“We have a science division run by a lunatic wearing clown paint, a captain who never takes off his helmet, another whose one and only joy in life is fighting, and yet another who’s still pining away over the captain who abandoned her more than half a century ago; I’m only obsessed with my wife. I would think I’m about average.”  
Obsessed? Really? He couldn’t even be bothered to come home half the time; how was that obsessed? But, apparently, even when he wasn’t home, he was still somehow ‘keeping an eye on her.’ He was obsessed with knowing where she was, with keeping her safe. She had never doubted he loved her, but she’d always sort of assumed she was more of a fixture than a passion in his life. She thought he needed her around in the same sort of way one might need say a hand--it’s important and useful and you really couldn’t imagine living without it, but you didn’t worry or even think too deeply about it. It was a part of you that you just always figured would be there--clearly she’d been wrong. He did think about her; he worried enough about her that he had made plans to protect her just in case she did something he considered risky. He really was obsessed with her.  
“You’re really afraid something’s going to happen to me if I go somewhere you can’t protect me, aren’t you?” she asked. It was strange to realize he felt such fear for her, that he knew it wasn’t rational and he was still driven to protect her.  
Gin shrugged. He wouldn’t say it. It drove her out of her mind sometimes. Why couldn’t he just say what he felt? If he was afraid of her being hurt, if he needed to protect her, he needed to tell her so. He needed to tell her what he was afraid of and why he was so worried. They might be able to work these things out if there was any communication, but there wasn’t, never. All she could ever do was guess what was wrong and try to address it. She couldn’t even know if she was trying to fix the right problem.  
Rangiku shook her head. “You know your fears are irrational, don’t you? I’m not a child, and I’m not weak. There's no reason to think that anything's going to happen to me. You have to let me protect myself.”  
He looked away. His expression was as inscrutable as always. “How about we make a deal?” he said finally. “If you can beat me, using your shikai and kido and anything else you can think of, while I don’t use anything--I’ll even use a practice sword instead of Shinso, if you can beat me, I’ll admit my concerns are foolish and stop interfering.”  
Rangiku frowned. How did he manage to sound like he was being perfectly reasonable when he knew he’d offered her an impossible challenge? “You’re a captain,” she said, finally. “That’s not fair.”  
“Isshin was beaten. Whatever defeated him must have been at least as strong as me without Shinso,” he answered.  
She frowned. It really wasn't fair. She knew she couldn’t beat him. She’d tried a thousand times, but if he was basically unarmed--maybe--surely, with a little practice, at least, she should have a chance, and if she won, he really, really, couldn’t worry anymore. It was worth trying. Insane fear or no, it would be better if she could get him over it than just ignoring it. “Fine,” she said finally. “But if I can’t beat you the first time you have to let me try again.”  
“As many times as you’d like,” he said with a smile.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro was very surprised when his mother finally appeared an hour later, dripping with sweat and not at all happy, with his father following after her, grinning.  
Rangiku’s eyes went from Toshiro to the baby and back. They were both decorated liberally with rice pudding. “You know what?” she said. “Your daddy’s watching both of you today. Have fun.”  
And with that she turned and left.  
Gin couldn’t resist calling after her. “Rematch this evening?”  
“Smile while you can, Fox-boy,” she answered as she walked out the door


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really can’t put together a timeline or figure out any sort of reasonable ages for everyone, but ages are sometimes really important to kids, so in this section I have Toshiro and Hinamori discuss his age, and I’m just going to use human ages and let every reader use their imagination as to what that might translate to in shinigami years. Sorry.

Toshiro had decided to visit Division Five. It had nothing to do with the fact that Hinamori Momo worked there. Captain Aizen had said he would be welcome any time, and he thought it would be polite to return the Captain’s visit. He had his pack and a bag of persimmons from the trees his father had planted at the division. They were still pretty small, but a hundred trees with ten fruit apiece was still a lot of fruit.  
He hadn’t exactly asked his parents permission to go by himself, but they both seemed fine with him spending his time how he wanted. He told Fourth Seat Shirakawa where he was going, so if either of them decided they needed him, it shouldn't be too hard for them to find him.  
He waved at the men at the gate when he arrived at the Fifth. He’d known both of them all his life, and they still called him ‘Shiro-chan’, but at least they didn’t ask him where his mommy was.  
He walked through the division with complete confidence. Every inch of the main buildings was familiar, and nearly every person he met smiled and said ‘hello’ to him, not even thinking to question the presence of a child, by himself, who no longer had any reason to be there.  
The captain’s office door was open, and Toshiro looked in curiously. Aizen wasn’t in but there were four of his staff officers taking a break and chatting happily as they drank tea.  
“Shiro-chan!” Hinamori exclaimed, noticing the white-haired boy immediately. “What are you doing here?”  
“I thought I’d visit Captain Aizen,” he answered, frowning. ‘Shiro-chan’ seriously? How old did she think he was?  
“He’s not in this morning,” the Third Seat informed him. “I think he went to meet with Captain Tosen. I think he’ll be back from the Ninth after lunch.”  
“Oh,” Toshiro pulled the pack off his back and set it on the floor, so he could get out the persimmons. “Can I leave these for him then?”  
“Of course,” Hinamori answered, taking the bag and setting it on the captain’s desk. “What are you going to do now, Shiro-chan?”  
He shrugged. “I’ll think of something.” He picked up his bag and pulled the straps over his shoulders while debating internally the relative merits of visiting the Tenth, where the cooks tended to spoil him or going back to the Third where he could practice in peace.  
“I’ll come with you,” Hinamori announced, taking his hand. “You probably shouldn’t be wandering all over Seireitei on your own anyway.”  
He walked only a few feet down the hall before he couldn’t take it any longer. He stopped abruptly and yanked his hand out of hers. “How old do you think I am?” he demanded.  
Hinamori turned and frowned at him, looking a little hurt by his shout. “I don’t know,” she said. “Seven, maybe?” She was being as generous as she could. He really didn’t look any older than five, but he spoke and acted a lot older so she was giving him the benefit of the doubt.  
“Nine, I’m nine,” he told her in annoyance. “I know I’m short but that’s no reason to treat me like a baby.”  
Himamori’s eyes widened. “You really are almost old enough to go to the Academy.”  
“My mom’s not going to let me go till I’m at least sixteen,” Toshiro said. “She thinks it’s better if I’m closer to the same age as everyone else.”  
“But you already know so much,” Hinamori said. She studied him for a moment, trying to get a read on his reiatsu. It was surprisingly hard to judge. “I bet you could learn anything they teach the First Years.”  
“Yeah?” Toshiro said, trying to look like that was a compliment and not be annoyed because he could do more than the graduates. Nobody other than his father knew about that, and that’s the way it had to stay. He could tell his mom wasn’t ready to give him up, and he wasn’t even a hundred percent sure he wanted to try to join the Academy while he was still small enough everyone was going to treat him like a little kid. He hadn’t given up the dream of being tall one day. Both of his parents were, and, yeah, he didn’t grow in the summer, but as long as he kept growing every winter he’d get there eventually, right?  
Hinamori smiled suddenly. “Would you like to learn a kido?” she asked.  
“A kido?” he repeated.  
“If you don’t think your parents would mind. I won’t teach you anything dangerous. Sometimes they let kids your age into the Academy so even if you’re not going yet--”  
“Why shouldn’t I learn some kido,” Toshiro said slowly. It had never occurred to him before. He was reaching an age where learning a couple kido wasn’t that unusual. Some of the kids from the Four Great Houses would go to the Academy already knowing all the basic kido. Why shouldn't he? He just had to avoid doing anything too impressive, and he could act like he was just learning it all now. “They won’t mind. They’ve already let me learn shunpo.”  
“You know shunpo?” Hinamori said skeptically.  
“I learned shunpo forever ago. I’m probably faster than you,” he said. It felt surprisingly good to actually be able to brag about something he was good at. All the secrets his father liked so much were stressful and exhausting. Bragging almost made him feel free.  
“Don’t be silly--”  
“Race you to practice field six,” he said and vanished.  
Hinamori arrived at least thirty seconds after him, gasping for breath. She couldn’t even claim he’d only won because of his head start. He’d beaten her thoroughly, and he wasn’t even winded.  
Toshiro smiled. “Bet I get better at kido than you, too,” he said.  
Hinamori looked down at the small, white-haired boy with his bright, determined eyes, and all she could say was, “You’d better not.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

The last of the golden ginkgo leaves were falling as Lieutenant Ise marched up the path to the home of the captain of the Third Division. The captain was on the porch with the two boys. The toddler was bundled up in several layers of kimonos and wore a ridiculous-looking stocking cap from the world of the living that was decorated with pink snowflakes and pompoms. He was also giggling and throwing the blocks Gin was calmly counting as he stacked. Toshiro, dressed like it was mid-summer, in a blue and green jinbei and bare feet, looked unamused.  
Gin raised his head, immediately sensing the lieutenant, and smiled hugely. Then he turned toward the closed paper doors and shouted, “Ran, one of your friends.”  
“One! Two! Ten!” Kinta announced just as loudly, and smiling just as enormously.  
“Told you he couldn't learn to count,” Toshiro muttered.  
“Good morning, Captain, Toshiro-kun,” Nanao said awkwardly.  
“Morning, Nanana!” Kinta announced loudly.   
Toshiro rolled his eyes. He wasn’t impressed by baby-talk. Of course, Nanao was, and she came up to the tiny boy and started talking to him in baby-talk too, which Toshiro found even more annoying. He was certain, despite what his parents claimed, that he had never been that nauseating.  
“You know he learned to talk even faster than you did,” Gin told Toshiro. “You’d better watch out. We may have two baby geniuses in the family.”  
“He’s not a genius,” Toshiro said. “He’s just loud, like Mom.”  
The door behind him slid open, and Rangiku looked down at her son. “Is that so?” she asked.  
Toshiro looked away. “What’s so great about talking a lot?” he muttered.  
Rangiku chose to ignore him. “Hello, Nanao-chan. What brings you all the way out to the Third? It’s our day off so it had better not be business.”  
“Only part of it’s business,” Nanao answered, straightening and pushing her glasses back. “The Captain has volunteered the Eighth to decorate for New Year’s, and he is insisting that we do something special. He suggested I see if Toshiro-kun would be interested in helping.”  
Toshiro raised his head. “Help decorating?” he said in surprise.  
“You used to make beautiful giant snowflakes when you were little,” Rangiku said. “Don’t you think you could do some wonderful ice sculptures now?”  
Toshiro frowned slightly. He did not remember making snowflakes. He remembered trying other things, like seeing how far he could make a frost spread, when he had trained with Aizen. Captain Aizen had found his ice creating abilities fascinating, and they had spent a lot of time learning his abilities and limitations. He hadn’t realized his affinity for ice was common knowledge throughout the Gotei, however, and wasn’t sure what to make of Nanao’s request.  
He glanced at his father, but Gin was simply smiling at him, unreadable as ever.  
“I guess I could,” he said, finally. “Unless it gets too warm.”  
“I’m sure you can convince the weather to cooperate if you try,” Gin said.  
Toshiro glanced back at his father, ready to demand to know what he meant by that, but Rangiku interrupted. “Oh, you should freeze the lake. Then we could have ice skating! I've always wanted to try ice skating! They have the cutest western clothes for it with little fur hats and fur trimmed coats--oh, wouldn’t you boys look adorable in those little western coats? Gin, you have to get--”  
“I’m not wearing a coat!” Toshiro protested. “I won’t freeze the lake if you’re going to make me wear a coat. You have to promise, no winter clothes.”  
Rangiku sighed. “Fine. At least Kin-chan will wear a pretty little coat with fur trim, won’t you, darling?”  
Kinta looked up at her and grinned. “Yes!” he declared happily.  
Rangiku picked him up and hugged him. “You’re such a good boy!”  
Toshiro just rolled his eyes.  
“Then it’s settled?” Nanao said a little uncertainly. “You’ll help with New Year’s?”  
Toshiro nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.”  
“Good. Thank you. I’m sure my captain will be very glad to hear it,” Nanao told him. Then she looked up at his mother, still snuggling Kinta. “Rangiku, there is one other thing I would like to talk to you about. It’s not work related. I promise.”  
“Come on in then,” Rangiku suggested. “I’ll make some tea.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Tea had been made and served and the two lieutenants were relaxing all warm and snugly, half buried under the blanket of that most wonderful of inventions, the kotatsu. Rangiku thought she could probably forgive Captain Kurotsuchi for all his various crimes just for bringing the heated table to Soul Society.  
Nanao wasn’t quite so generous, but she did enjoy sitting under the kotatsu with a nice cup of tea. She glanced toward the outside doors, no longer hearing voices or seeing shadowy figures moving around on the porch. “Where have the boys gone?”  
“Gin was going to take them to go play out in the garden somewhere. Shiro-chan has a secret base,” Rangiku said, smiling. He really was still so cute.  
“Toshiro does?” Nanao said in surprise. He didn’t seem like the type to play make-believe with a little homemade fort. He seemed more down to earth than that.  
“Yep,” Rangiku declared. “He goes all the time--when he isn’t off to the Fifth to see Hinamori Momo--she’s the new Fifth Seat there. Have you met her? Shiro-chan has a crush on her. His first crush! It’s so cute!”  
Nanao blinked. She had not met the Fifth Seat, but imagining Toshiro crushing on some young shinigami was even harder than imagining him playing in a secret base. He was just such a serious child. But Rangiku probably knew better than she did. Somehow, impossibly, Rangiku seemed to see these things.   
“You seem to have been right about Nemu and Captain Ukitake,” Nanao said, looking down into her tea cup and swishing around the tea leaves in the dregs of the tea. Figuring out who was meant for whom seemed about as simple as reading the future in those tea leaves--in other words impossible--but somehow Rangiku had pulled it off.  
“Really? It was Miyako who thought of it, not me, but, really? What have you heard? No one’s told me anything. Are they together, together?” Rangiku demanded, enthusiastically.  
“My captain was sulking this morning because Captain Ukitake cancelled their annual trip to the mountain hot springs to enjoy the fall color, and in my captain’s case to drink so much he’s sick for a week. But they’re not going this year because Captain Ukitake is taking Nemu instead, on her very first vacation.”  
Rangiku’s eyes widened. “They’re going on a vacation together! That’s serious!”  
Nanao’s eyes narrowed. “Separate rooms, and I am sure Captain Ukitake will be a perfect gentleman,” she said, coolly. “But yes, it does seem serious. How did you know?”  
“How did I know what?” Rangiku demanded.  
“How did you know they would work? They have nothing in common,” Nanao said. “She’s a scientist. She’s interested in facts and numbers and experimental data. It’s only in the last decade or so that she’s realized she’s lacking in people skills and that that is a problem. She barely even noticed that people existed as more than experimental subjects before then, but people is all Captain Ukitake is interested in. He takes the grand ideas of the Gotei and looks at how they will affect individuals. He cares even less than my captain about any great and noble callings; he wants only to take care of the people Involved. He’s Nemu’s opposite, and yet, somehow, they fit.   
“I was taking turns with Miyako keeping the captain company in Division Four while he was recovering, and I saw them together more than once. Nemu kept coming and trying to apologize, and he kept telling her she had nothing to apologize for. They never said much; it was always very simple, polite conversation, but I always felt like I was intruding. I felt like they were sharing more than the words they spoke.” Nanao looked frustrated as she tried to explain. “Why do they fit? What is it that makes one person right for another, and how is it that you see it while I am completely blind?”  
A smile spread slowly over Rangiku’s face. “Do you want me to help you find someone for you, Nanao-chan?”  
“Absolutely not!” Nanao exclaimed. “If I was interested in romance I am sure I could find a man myself. I am puzzled, that’s all. I don’t understand how such very different people can be happy together. For that matter, you and Captain Ichimaru are also very different, and yet you seem to be perfectly happy even after over half a century together. I always thought that a good couple should have many interests in common. Miyako and Kaien-san are a perfect example of that, but Nemu and Captain Ukitake and you and Captain Ichimaru seem to argue the opposite. If common interests aren't required then what is it that makes a good couple?”  
Rangiku grinned. “Maybe it’s all just physical,” she laughed.  
Nanao blushed. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said quickly. “You had plenty of young men to choose from, and Captain Ichimaru was hardly the best-looking. If all that mattered was physical appearance--”  
“Maybe I didn’t mean appearance,” Rangiku interrupted.  
Nanao’s blush darkened, but her eyes narrowed. “A physical relationship does not make a couple. No matter how satisfying it might be a physical relationship is just that, physical. A real couple seems to me to connect on a very different level, and without that connection a couple is nothing more than two people passing some time together, regardless of what they are doing.”  
“Is that from personal experience?” Rangiku asked, more than a little amused by the direction of the conversation.  
“It’s what I have seen,” Nanao answered stiffly. “I only wondered if you could tell me what it is that causes such a connection to form. If you don’t know then I won’t waste any more of your time.”  
Nanao started to get up, but Rangiku stopped her. “Nobody knows,” Rangiku said. “Not really. We just fall in love with who we fall in love with. I’ve loved Gin since the moment I met him. I could give you all sorts of reasons, but the truth is I just do. I guess it’s probably that way with everyone. It’s not something you decide. It just happens.”  
“Then how did you know--”  
“We didn’t,” Rangiku interrupted. “Miyako and I, we just thought Captain Ukitake and Nemu both seemed like the sort of people who were meant to love someone just the way they needed to be loved, so we gave them the chance to see if they thought so too. I hope it does work out. But you never can know, not from the outside.”  
“Can you from the inside?” Nanao asked.  
Rangiku’s smile faded slightly. “I hope so,” she answered.  
Nanao’s sharp eyes narrowed on Rangiku’s face. “Rangiku?” she said softly. There had been something in the way Rangiku had spoken, a lack of the happy confidence Rangiku always had when she spoke about relationships, that suddenly worried Nanao. “Is something wrong?”  
Rangiku shook her head and laughed lightly. “Of course not!” she said. “I only meant no one knows everything. Love is something you have to take on faith. You can know how you feel, but you just have to trust the person you love to love you back. I think that scares some people--I bet it would scare you, wouldn’t it? Risking your heart when you can never really know what they feel.”  
Nanao did not miss how Rangiku had turned the focus back on her, avoiding sharing what she, herself, felt. “I suppose I would,” Nanao said stiffly and honestly. “I’m not like you, Rangiku. I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve. All of my feelings are private, and I do not trust them to just anyone. I suppose that love, being the most deeply valuable and intense emotion one can experience, I would find it difficult to share, until I felt quite confident that I could trust the person for whom I felt it. Is it easy for you, Rangiku, to trust Captain Ichimaru?”  
After such an honest answer Rangiku could hardly shrug the question off like she usually did, when people, baffled by her relationship to Gin, questioned her. Their questions were always some sort of joking variant on “how can you trust that lying, two-faced bastard?” She always laughed and said she always had and it seemed to have worked out just fine so far. But he did lie to her, constantly, and he did all sorts of things she didn’t know about, and he and Shiro-chan had been up to something for years--she wasn’t stupid. She knew that Gin was probably the least trustworthy person she’d ever met, but still, “He loves me,” she said, smiling gently. “I can always feel it, surrounding me, shielding me all the time from anything that could possibly hurt me. I may not have the most honest husband, but I can always trust him.”  
Nanao shook her head. “Then it is a good thing I have no interest in falling in love. I could not sustain such an obvious contradiction of heart and mind.”  
Rangiku laughed, all her deeper worries banished instantly. “It’s not a contradiction, Nanao. It’s just that nothing else matters. He might do anything to the world or anyone in it, and I really wouldn’t be surprised. I have no idea what he wants and sometimes that does worry me, but I never stop trusting him because I know that, no matter what, he will always love and protect me.”  
“Why?” Nanao asked, completely mystified by Rangiku’s attitude.  
Rangiku shrugged. “I guess that that’s the connection you were asking about. We’re tied together so nothing can pull us apart.”  
Nanao sighed. “And Miyako said you would be able to explain better than her. I really can’t imagine that she would do worse. Love is, according to you, some sort of magical feeling that comes from nowhere and somehow convinces you to ignore your better sense and trust people regardless of whether they deserve it. Love, at best sounds unwise, and at worst, sounds completely foolish. I am quite glad to have no part of it.”  
With that Nanao departed, and Rangiku, watching her go, felt very sorry for her friend and worried that she must be very lonely.


	34. Chapter 34

It snowed on New Years Eve. Gin said it was thanks to Toshiro, but he just rolled his eyes and ignored his father as usual. Seireitei was beautiful in the snow, and Toshiro’s specially crafted decorations, crystalline sculptures and enormous snowflakes and icicles that hung with the festival lanterns transformed the entire city into a winter wonderland.  
Rangiku got her way, dressing both her boys and herself in adorable outfits from the World of the Living. Toshiro refused a coat, but gave in to a blue fair isle sweater decorated with reindeer and snowflakes and fur trimmed boots that went halfway to his knees over woolen pants that were both too hot and too tight. Humans wore absurdly tight fitting clothes in his opinion, but his mother grinned and clapped her hands and hugged him and told him how adorable he looked, and he guessed making her that happy was worth being a little uncomfortable once a year. At least he wasn’t like Kinta, dressed in a fur trimmed snowsuit that was so thick and fluffy he could barely move at all.  
Rangiku, herself, had a woolen Christmas sweater, patterned with holly and ivy and reindeer and snowflakes, all in green and red and white and a full skirt of dark brown wool that stood out with a petticoat that she thought was the most marvelous invention ever and kept swooshing and laughing at with Kinta. As they left, she pulled on knee high, fur trimmed, brown leather boots and a long, flared blue-grey coat that was just the color of her eyes and trimmed with the most wonderfully soft white fur.  
She spun around once more letting the skirt swoosh around her legs and demanded, “How do I look?”  
Gin, still stubbornly and really boring, in Rangiku’s opinion, dressed in his normal captain’s uniform, did at least answer her nicely. “You look just like the pictures, Ran, just like a winter princess.”  
“Really?” she exclaimed happily. “Do you think so? I love dressing up!’  
Toshiro picked up a box he had left just beside the door and held it out to her. “I made you a present,” he said, looking a little embarrassed. “It was Lieutenant Ise’s idea.”  
“Thank you, Shiro-chan,” Rangiku said and took the box. She pulled open the lid and gasped. “Oh, Shiro-chan! Did you really make this? It’s beautiful. Gin, look!” She passed the package to her husband. “Can you believe it? Did you know he could make something so perfect?”  
“It’ll only last for today,” Toshiro said, blushing at all his mother’s gushing compliments.  
Gin stared at Toshiro’s creation. It was a crown of glittering snowflakes, a crystalline ring of sparkling ice. It was absolutely stunning, more beautiful than anything that could have been made by any skilled craftsman, even with diamonds. He knew Aizen had spent years with Toshiro, playing ‘games’ with his power over snow and ice and cold, but he’d had no idea the boy had learned anything like this level of control.   
“It is perfect,” he said, passing it back to Rangiku. “You should put it on.”  
“You’re right,” she said, carefully lifting the crown and setting it on her head, where it caught the light and glittered, more exquisitely perfect than any queen’s crown. “Now I feel like a real princess--oh, I hope it won’t fall off! It looks so delicate. It’d probably shatter into a million pieces!”  
She turned her head back and forth but the ornament seemed firmly in place. “Thank you, Shiro-chan! Thank you so much! It’s beautiful!” she declared, bending over to hug him. “I’m so lucky to have such a sweet little boy!”  
Over her shoulder, Toshiro caught sight of his father watching them and for once the mocking smile was gone. In its place for just a second was something that looked like it might have been fear.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

They went out to the frozen lake where dozens, if not hundreds, of shinigami were strapping on skates and taking to the ice. Toshiro crossed the ice easily, watching the others in amusement. For many this was their first attempt at ice skating, and there were many tumbles and collisions.  
The redhead, Renji, he had once met with Kira, was struggling to get back up after falling, while his fellow Division Eleven member, Ikkaku, watched him, laughing loudly. But Ikkaku, himself, wasn’t paying enough attention, and Yumichika and Yachiru came up behind him, skating hand in hand, and gave him a shove that sent him sliding face first across the ice.  
“Strike!” Yachiru declared, when the Third Seat slid into a group of Division Four who all went tumbling onto the ice.  
Rangiku zipped past them, pirouetting with Kinta in her arms, and Toshiro rolled his eyes. Of course his mother could skate. She wouldn’t have suggested the frozen lake otherwise.  
She wasn’t the only person in western clothes. It looked like most of the people who knew what they were doing had opted for the tighter fitting western clothing. Toshiro passed Captain Kyoraku in western clothing, for once without hat or haori, demonstrating a double axle for Nanao and telling her that it was really very simple, while she stood on the ice, glaring at him. Then there was Captain Ukitake, almost as bundled up as Kinta in a heavy coat and a knit hat and scarf Rangiku would have admired, as he slowly skated backwards, holding onto both of Nemu’s hands and encouraging her to move one foot and then the other. The lieutenant looked very serious with her eyes focused on the ice as she inched forward. She was explaining the scientific reason why ice was so slippery, but that did not seem to be helping her balance.  
Toshiro noticed that Captain Ukitake and Nemu were not the only ones using the ice as an excuse for more than usual PDA. Kaien and Miyako were skating around the outer edge of the lake, arm in arm, as were a few other couples Toshiro didn’t know, and Toshiro found himself wondering if his mother would manage to get his father out onto the ice with her, just so she could hold his hand in public.  
As he was thinking, he was hit from behind and actually slid forward a couple feet before he managed to stop and turn to face his attacker.  
Hinamori Momo was wobbling awkwardly, trying to maintain her balance after colliding with him. “Sorry, Shiro-kun!” she said, as he moved forward and caught hold of her arm, steadying her instantly.   
“Sorry,” she repeated. “I didn’t think ice skating would be so hard.”  
“You just have to get used to it,” Toshiro told her. “But maybe I should help you get closer to the outside.”  
Behind them, Lieutenant Kotetsu and her little sister zipped by and leapt up into side by side spins before landing gracefully back onto the ice, as if to point out just how risky the center of the lake was.  
A little ways away, Captain Kyoraku clapped and declared, “See, Nanao-chan, nothing to it!”  
Hinamori flinched. “Maybe you’re right.”  
Toshiro helped her back into the traffic of casual skaters slowly circling the wide lake. “This is probably safer for you,” he told her, as he glanced back at the experts in the center. Was that Captains Unohana and Komamura skating together to a waltz?  
“You’re not having any trouble though,” she pointed out, refusing to release his hand, now that they’d reached the more comfortable skating.  
“It’s ice,” Toshiro said. “I never have trouble with ice.”  
“I heard you helped with the decorating; is that true?” she asked.  
He nodded. “Lieutenant Ise asked me to.”  
“You’re really, really talented,” Hinamori told him, and he realized she was leading him off the ice, and there, on the bank, was Captain Aizen standing with his father. “We should tell Captain Aizen. He will be really impressed.”  
“I don’t think--” Toshiro stopped arguing. They had already reached the two captains. “Good morning, Captain Aizen,” he said, bowing politely.  
“Are you two having fun?” Aizen asked, smiling at the way Hinamori looked up at him so admiringly, while Toshiro just looked annoyed.  
“Captain Aizen, did you know Shiro-kun did a lot of the decorating for New Years?” Hinamori asked.  
“I did,” Aizen answered. “You did very well Toshiro-kun. Your skills have grown very impressive. The lake must have taken a lot of energy. I noticed you froze it through.”  
Toshiro’s eyes dropped. He’d gotten out Hyorinmaru when no one was around to manage that. It had seemed important to get it right. “I didn’t want anyone to fall through thin ice,” he said softly.  
“Of course not,” Aizen agreed. “I am simply amazed by the power it must have taken. I had not realized how much you’d advanced since we worked together.”  
“He’s learned the first five bakudo,” Hinamori added. “Toshiro’s just as good as any First Year at the Academy. We’ve been practicing together, and he learns very quickly.”  
“Are you enjoying learning kido, Toshiro-kun?” Aizen asked.  
Toshiro raised his head. He’d always wanted to trust Aizen with his secret, but his father wouldn’t let him--tell no one was the first and only rule. He almost expected Gin to look angry as he stood beside Aizen listening to Hinamori tell him that Toshiro had been learning kido, but of course his father gave nothing away. He was smiling that same empty smile he always did, like nothing Toshiro said could possibly matter.  
“I love it,” Toshiro said. He, too, could act like there was nothing to hide. “I think kido’s awesome. I want to learn more every day.”  
Aizen laughed lightly. “There’s no reason to hurry. You will learn it all in time. I think I may come work with you and Hinamori-kun, from time to time. You both show a great deal of promise. I would like to see you excel.”  
“Probably better you than me,” Gin said, speaking for the first time. “There’s only so much I could teach him before he passes me altogether. I’m afraid kido’s never going to be one of my areas of expertise.”  
Toshiro looked at his father in surprise. Did he just get permission to learn kido from Captain Aizen? What about kido being a secret? He hadn’t been sure how his father would react to the fact that he was doing kido with Hinamori, but this had not been anywhere close.  
Gin smiled like he knew exactly what Toshiro was thinking. “If you work very hard you may learn a couple dozen kido by the time you get to the Academy,” he said. “If I were you, though, I’d see if you can get Captain Aizen to teach you chantless casting instead of seeing how many you can learn. He’s a kido master. He can help you perfect each and every kido you learn so even just knowing a few bottom level kido could make you strong.”  
Toshiro’s eyes shifted to Aizen. It was true; Gin was not a kido expert. They had only been able to accomplish so much working together. Maybe if he didn’t let Aizen know how much he had already learned, he could learn each in greater depth, without risking attracting any dangerous attention. “Could you, sir?” he said, enthusiastically.  
“We’ll see,” Aizen answered with a smile.  
“Thank you,” Toshiro said, bowing like he almost never did. “Thank you. I’d love to learn from you.”  
“Me too,” Hinamori agreed, bowing lower and more carefully than Toshiro had. “Thank you for including me.”  
“Of course, now you two go have fun on the ice. It probably won’t last more than a day or two.”  
They both bowed once more before heading back to the ice.  
Gin smiled, and he couldn’t resist saying, “Young Hinamori is very cute, isn’t she?”  
“Your son seems to think so,” Aizen answered, nearly forcing the smile from Gin’s face.


	35. Chapter 35

As a third hollow turned to sparkling dust Gin stepped out of the tree line. “It appears you’ve gotten over your hesitation,” he said to Toshiro as the boy returned Hyorinmaru to his back.  
Toshiro chose not to respond. He doubted his father would have much sympathy for his reluctance to kill living things. It hadn’t been hard to reason out. Hollows were murderous monsters and killing them was actually freeing their souls, but getting that idea from his brain to his heart had been more difficult. Death was so final, and with a hollow nothing was left at all. It just evaporated into dust like it had never existed. It bothered him instinctively to make something simply nothing.  
“You’re going to be working with Captain Aizen tomorrow,” Gin said shortly.  
Toshiro glanced up. He had expected this lecture for a week. He wondered what had taken Gin so long. “Are you mad?” he asked. He’d never seen his father angry. He wondered what it would be like. The thought sent a shiver of fear down his spine, but that only made him want to push harder. He told himself he didn’t care, and he would never be afraid of Gin so it didn’t matter. “Maybe I can show him Hyorinmaru too,” he said when Gin didn’t answer.   
“So you’re wanting to make your mother cry?” Gin said coolly. “She’ll be very upset when they take you away to the Academy. Losing her son will be hard on her, but I’m sure with Kin-chan to take care of she’ll get over it quickly enough.”  
“They won’t really take me away,” Toshiro said. “And Captain Aizen wouldn’t tell them anyway. He’s my friend.”  
Gin leaned forward, and his smile had for once completely vanished. “Let me tell you a little secret, Shiro-chan. The more noble and dedicated a man is to the Gotei 13, like Captain Aizen or the General, the less they can be trusted to protect any one person. Not sending you to the Academy is better for you; you get to grow up loved and protected by your family. Your life is balanced; you study and train, but you also get to play and enjoy wasting time doing nothing at all, and if you’re scared or you get hurt, you have your mother to come and make it better.   
“I think you deserve to have that just as much as any other child, but it would be far better for the Gotei if they were to take you and train you, and make you into a terrifyingly powerful shinigami, that they could use however they want. They would teach you bankai and make you into a captain, maybe the youngest captain Soul Society’s ever seen, and you could spend the entire rest of your life surrounded by blood and death. You’ll be strong and proud and completely alone, and that is how they will always want you to be, the perfect shinigami.”  
“They wouldn’t do that,” Toshiro said stubbornly.  
“Why not?” Gin said, a very cruel smile turning up his lips. “That’s what they tried to do to me.”  
Toshiro took a step back. Despite what his mother had always said, he’d never seen much similarity between himself and his father besides the obvious coloring. He’d heard his father referred to as a child prodigy, but it had never really sunk in. It was hard to imagine his parents had ever been children, even harder to imagine his father ever had the faults of a child, the uncertainty, weakness, and fears. He just couldn’t see his father having a nightmare and needing his mommy to come tell him it wasn’t real and everything was all right. His father was more of the sort to give other people nightmares. “You were just a kid when you became a shinigami?” he asked.  
“Just a couple years older than you. Went through the Academy in a year. Immediately was placed in the Fifth Division, Sixth Seat, moved up to Fifth the next year, and Fourth a couple years later. Made Third Seat before I was allowed to drink; didn’t seem fair, that, allowed to kill but not to drink,” his smile turned bitter, and he looked away. “I have been exactly where you are, Shiro. You can follow my path and prove yourself to Aizen, spend every moment of every day becoming stronger for him, and he will help you become one of the very best. There is no better teacher, but to do that you have to give up your freedom.  
“Sooner or later it will happen anyway. You were born with the reiatsu of a shinigami, and all of Seireitei knows it. One day you will be a shinigami. But there is no reason for you to hurry. Enjoy your freedom. Take your time to decide for yourself what sort of shinigami you’re going to be. You still have so many choices. Let Aizen teach you, but don’t give him your choices.”  
Toshiro looked away. He had thought his father might be angry at him for risking his secret with Hinamori and Aizen, but he had never expected this. This was far too real. It scared him to know his father had once been like him, but that having taken the obvious path, the one Toshiro, himself, wanted to follow, he clearly regretted the choice, and didn’t want Toshiro to make the same one.  
Gin had never talked to him like this before. He wanted to say it was just another lie, just another game his father was playing with him, but he knew it wasn’t. He knew that this time, maybe for the first time, his father had been honest with him. “I’ll be careful,” he said, finally.  
Gin nodded.  
“Dad, why did you decide to--”  
“Race you home,” Gin said, and he vanished.  
Toshiro scowled as he raced after him.


	36. Chapter 36

Rangiku gave the obi one last satisfying tug. The bow was perfect if she did say so herself. “Miyako, you look beautiful,” she declared, stepping back to survey her work.  
Her friend wore a black silk kimono decorated in a rain of purple wisteria and a gold obi around her narrow waist. Her hair was perfect, held in place with a hairpin of glittering amethyst formed into a branch of wisteria. She looked beautiful, but more than that she looked stately and elegant and, “You look perfect, Shiba-dono,” Rangiku said, bowing low.  
“Oh, don’t!” Miyako exclaimed. “If anyone had told me my husband would become head of the Shiba family I think I would have reconsidered marrying him!”  
“She’s joking,” Rangiku said, looking toward the small, dark-haired girl who was standing in the corner of the room looking very uncomfortable. “You’d better tell Rukia you’re joking,” she said, turning back to Miyako.  
Miyako sighed. “She knows I’m joking,” Miyako said. “She may look like Hisana, but she’s not Hisana. She knows not to take me seriously, don’t you, Rukia-chan?”  
“Of course,” Rukia answered, trying to look serious and sensible, but still looking mostly nervous to Rangiku.  
“Poor Kaien,” Miyako continued. “He hates this worse than I do. Do you know how hard it is for him to spend an entire evening not smiling? It’s not fair. We could be spending Tanabata with all of you, and instead the Shiba family has decided to put on a show, and we’re the main attraction.”  
“Well, we’ll have plenty of fun for you,” Rangiku promised, grinning hugely. Division Thirteen always had the best, and most child-friendly Tanabata festival. Many of the captain's relatives would bring their children, and all of the families with children in the Gotei were always invited. It made the Thirteenth’s Tanabata festival feel more like a festival than the gatherings of drunk and rowdy shinigami that were the other divisions’ celebrations. “Gin’s promised to watch the boys so I can drink all I want. Isn’t that sweet of him?”  
Miyako smiled. “He’s probably going to drop Kin-chan with Kiyone and tell Shiro to go play and sleep through the entire festival.”  
Rangiku opened her mouth to argue but realized Miyako had a point. “Kurotsuchi’s fireworks will wake him up when it’s time to go. As long as he makes sure we leave with the same children we brought I don’t think I’ll complain.”  
“Kurotsuchi’s bringing fireworks?” Miyako exclaimed. “I understand why the captain’s willing to make peace with the bastard, I do, but letting him bring explosives to the division? Who thought that’d be a good idea?”  
“Kaien-san said it would be fine,” Rukia said, uncomfortably.  
“Of course he did!” Miyako declared, heading for the door. “And we’re not even going to be here to make sure everything goes alright! That man! Does he even think?”  
She was still growling under her breath as she stormed out of the room.  
“Should I have asked Miyako-san instead of Kaien-san?” Rukia asked, looking worried.  
“It’s fine,” Rangiku said. “Miya-chan is very protective of Captain Ukitake, and I don’t think she’s gotten over Captain Kurotsuchi poisoning him, but there’s nothing to worry about. Nemu told me Kurotsuchi’s decided Captain Ukitake would be an acceptable father for her children so he’s not going to be picking any more fights.”  
Rukia’s eyes widened. “Father?” she repeated, nearly choking on the word.  
Rangiku picked up a brush and turned Rukia around so she could work on her hair. “That’s just the way they talk, Nemu and Captain Kurotsuchi; you can’t take them seriously. They’ll give you nightmares; they really will. It was years before I convinced Kurotsuchi to stop calling Shiro-chan a fascinating specimen.”  
Rukia looked even more shocked by Rangiku’s words, but the older woman didn’t seem to notice. “Kurotsuchi is only ever thinking about his next experiment, but since he got in trouble a few years back we really don't have to worry anymore that he might perform any unauthorized experiments on shinigami. It really is a lot more comfortable that way. Plenty of people weren’t willing to go to his division alone before that. Not that I blame them, even I was careful to always tell Gin before I went, just in case I turned out to need rescuing.”  
“You needed to be rescued from a captain?” Rukia said, her horror only increasing the longer Rangiku talked.  
Rangiku laughed lightly. “Of course not. Gin knew I was there, and Kurotsuchi knew he knew. Even if he wanted to include me in an experiment he’d never dare. Kurotsuchi knows Gin’s the only other man in Seireitei capable of matching him for creative nastiness.”  
“Oh,” was all Rukia managed to answer.  
“Most of them could be pretty nasty if they wanted to--what do you think of your hair like this?” she asked as she pinned Rukia's hair back with a flowered comb. “I bet your brother would go for the slow, painful kill, if someone ticked him off, and that’d be enough to convince most people not to mess with him, but with a freak like Kurotsuchi you have to be even scarier and completely unpredictable. He’s probably already worked out a way to deal with Captain Kyoraku if he tries to trap him with kido again--but you can’t plan for Gin--hell, even I can’t plan for Gin, and I’ve known him since we were both kids. But that’s the only thing that can make Kurotsuchi think twice, being completely unpredictable--anyway, that’s the best I can do with your hair. I really think you should try growing it out or something. I can’t help but think it’s got to bother your brother, seeing you look so much like Hisana all the time. If you grew out your hair you wouldn’t look so exactly like her--you’re shorter than she was, but you two could’ve been twins.”  
Rukia was feeling her hair nervously. “You think my appearance bothers Nii-sama?” she asked, the worry in her expression only increasing. “I can change my hair. I could grow it out or cut it all off if you think that would be better? Maybe I could dye it--people do that, don’t they? To change the color of their hair?”  
Rangiku smiled. The girl would obviously do anything to please her brother. Too bad her brother was Kuchiki Byakuya. He’d adored Hisana, and Rangiku had seen quite a lot of him then, but she still couldn’t remember him ever smiling. “Her hair was lighter than yours, but honestly, I probably shouldn’t have said anything. It might bother him less if you looked less like her, but something is always going to bother him. I’m afraid Captain Kuchiki is one of those unfortunate people who really just can’t be happy. He probably thinks happiness is an emotion for the common rabble, and he’s much too dignified for such nonsense.”  
“That’s not true,” Rukia argued. “I’m sure he was very happy when Hisana was alive. Everyone says he loved her very much.”  
“He did,” Rangiku had to grant the truth of that. “But I don’t know if that was enough to make him happy. He definitely didn’t show it if he was, so try not to worry too much if he seems less than pleased with you. He’s not going to smile at you or tell you what a wonderful sister you are, but he must want you around, or he wouldn’t have brought you into the family in the first place so try not to look so nervous. And remember, you’re a Kuchiki; you don’t even know what fear is.”  
Rukia nodded, not sure if she felt better or worse after Rangiku’s rambling speech, but she was right about that last bit, Kuchikis did not show fear. She turned to face her reflection head on and frowned. She did look frightened. With an effort, she drew herself up and forced the emotion from her face. She could do this. She could be a Kuchiki.  
“Look at that,” Rangiku said as she looked on. “You look more like a Kuchiki already.”  
The door opened behind them and they both turned to Miyako, peeking in and looking more than a little harried. “Are you ready to go? I’m afraid we’re going to be late--Rangiku, two of the captain’s nephews dared Toshiro to walk across the pond and I’m afraid Kin-chan followed him, and he’s soaking. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to do anything about it, but I sent Toshiro with Kin-chan to find Gin so it should be alright.”  
Rangiku sighed. “Out of diapers and we still need extra clothes. I hope we brought some--try to have fun, Miya-chan, Rukia-chan, and just be glad you don’t have children.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro didn’t even try to find their father. Knowing Gin, he’d probably perched on a roof somewhere or something where no one was likely to bother him. He just helped Kinta change himself. He’d brought along the extra clothes in his pack anyway.  
“Sorry, Nii-chan,” Kinta repeated for the third or fourth time as Toshiro tied the stupid pink obi--did his mother not understand there were other colors?--around his brother’s waist and led him back outside.  
Toshiro looked around the wide lawn, trying to pick out appropriate entertainment for a toddler. They’d already written their wishes and tied the little strips of colored paper to a pole of bamboo, and eaten way too many treats, and they’d already looked for frogs in the pond--thus leading to the dare that had ended in a soaking baby. He really shouldn’t have let the other kids get to him. It annoyed him how stupidly childish he could be when he was around other kids.  
And Kinta was tugging him toward a gathering of them. He really couldn’t see how Captain Ukitake managed to have so many relations. It seemed unreasonable.  
He let Kinta lead him over despite his misgivings. They weren’t really bad kids; mostly they were smart and a few even had enough reiatsu they would be going to the Academy someday. It really wasn’t their fault they acted like kids; he just had to remember he was smarter than that.  
The children had gathered around Captain Kurotsuchi, in what Toshiro considered a very unwise move, and were laughing loudly at how he had hypnotized one of the oldest to crawl around on the ground with his tongue hanging out like a dog.  
As Toshiro watched, the boy sat back and scratched behind his ear with his foot. All of the children clapped loudly, and several demanded to know what else Kurotsuchi could do.  
Kurotsuchi looked over all the eager young faces. “Well,” he said slowly. “There is one ability that I am very proud of, however, despite its usefulness, I have not been able to convince anyone else in the Gotei to adopt it.” He drew his zanpakuto and all of the children drew back, watching him in even greater awe. “It could increase our survival rates in the field astronomically. I cannot understand their continued resistance. Even you will be able to see how useful it is.”  
He lifted the blade and Toshiro just barely managed to get his hand over his brother’s eyes before Kurotsuchi severed his own hand. A few children screamed, but most were too shocked to react, especially when a bubbling mass of new flesh grew out from his arm and quickly took shape, replacing the captain’s hand almost instantly.  
Toshiro’s eyes dropped to the hand on the ground, but it was quickly melting into the grass. He lifted his hand from Kinta’s eyes; at least he’d be the only one having nightmares.  
“You see how useful it is?” Kurotsuchi continued. “We would no longer lose shinigami to blood loss and waiting time for replacement limbs would no longer be any sort of concern. I can lose up to ninety percent of my body without any ill effects. Would it not be preferable to replace the weak bodies of our troops with these stronger, self-repairing constructions?”  
Most of the children were still too stunned to move. Toshiro, though, managed to ask, “What do you mean ‘replace’?”  
Captain Kurotsuchi raised his head and smiled the moment he saw Toshiro standing there with only his little brother. “Ichimaru Toshiro, would you like to come and see? I would happily show you the entire procedure if you would come down to my laboratory. I understand you are unusually intelligent for your age, and I am sure you would find my methods most fascinating.”  
Toshiro’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not allowed to go places with strangers.”  
“I’m not a stranger. I’ve known you your entire life.”  
“You’re definitely a stranger,” Toshiro said. “I’d better go. Mom doesn’t like me talking to strangers either.”  
Kinta waved as he was pulled along. “Bye-bye,” he said happily.  
The sun was setting as they walked across the lawn. Toshiro could smell the food being brought out to tables under paper lanterns and saw all the people quickly gathering to get their share, including the crowd of children who’d just been watching Kurotsuchi. He wondered how they could eat after that. It had been really, really gross.  
So despite Kinta’s protests of food! And hungry! Toshiro dragged him away from the tables and the lanterns. He had noticed a couple far away from the crowd he was curious about. He thought if they had really wanted to be alone they shouldn’t have brought a telescope. He’d never actually had a chance to look through one before. He knew they were a bit like his father’s binoculars from the World of the Living, but since they were for looking at stars they were obviously much cooler.  
As he approached he heard Nemu reading in her always clear, concise voice from what sounded like an encyclopedia description of the star Altair. “You know,” she said suddenly, “That they are really millions of miles apart. They never meet.”  
“I know,” Ukitake said, raising his head from the telescope to smile at her.  
“Then why are we celebrating?” Nemu asked. “If you know that stars are not kami but only great balls of gas burning millions of miles away and the stars Altair and Vega are in no way connected then why do people gather to celebrate them?”  
“Because it's a beautiful story,” Ukitake said.  
“But it’s sad,” Nemu protested. “Unless I am mistaken again. Is it not sad that Orihime and Hikoboshi are separated forever, even if they may meet once a year? I would be sad in such a situation.”  
“It’s very sad,” Ukitake agreed, and he took her hand, drawing her closer as he spoke. “But it is also a little bit hopeful. They are able to meet again if only--”  
Toshiro interrupted before they did anything more embarrassing. “My dad hates it,” he said loudly. “Mom got a really pretty picture book of the story, but he wouldn’t read it to me, even when she nagged him. He said it was a really boring romance, and I wouldn’t like it, but then he ‘lost’ it, so I really think he hated it.”  
Ukitake and Nemu had both jumped and turned at the sound of his voice. It was really kinda funny; apparently his parents weren’t the only adults who could miss the approach of another person who wasn’t even trying to hide his reiatsu if they were focused on each other. It really seemed to him like captains should be better at paying attention than that.  
“Hello, Shiro-chan, Kin-chan, have you come to look through the telescope?” Ukitake asked.  
“But why doesn’t Captain Ichimaru like the story of Orihime and Hikoboshi? Everyone else seems to enjoy it,” Nemu said.  
“He doesn’t like sad stories,” Toshiro told her as he walked up to the telescope. It was at least as big as he was, a long cylindrical tube with a huge lens aimed at the night sky. “One time he said that if everyone was just going to end up dead at the end, why didn’t someone tell him that in the first place and save him all the pointless reading.”  
Toshiro looked into the eyepiece and all at once a distant galaxy of a billion stars all locked into a perfect, glittering spiral was before his eyes. He’d read about such things, but he’d never seen it before. He wondered at the brilliance of human ingenuity that had made it possible.They had used their tiny, insignificant lives to look out upon infinity. The shinigami, walking beneath the same bright skies, had never even tried. Humans were amazing.  
“But Captain Ukitake says even sad stories can be beautiful, and every story is sad if you read long enough,” Nemu turned abruptly back to Ukitake. “What do you mean by that? I have read many books to the end and they said, ‘happily ever after.’ How can that be sad?”  
“Because everyone dies eventually,” Toshiro said, wondering how she could have missed something so obvious. He stepped back from the telescope and lifted Kinta to get a view, because he wouldn’t stop pulling at him and saying, “My turn!”  
“Oh,” Nemu said, and she suddenly looked very sad. “But my father has designed me not to die. I do not age, and my body is self-repairing; every part is replaceable if the damage is somehow too severe. Even when you and your brother have grown old I will be the same. Even after you have died, and your children have died, and even after--”  
Her eyes shifted from Toshiro to Ukitake. He was watching her with a very kind, sad smile on his face. “Your body is not self-repairing,” she said like she’d only just realized it. “It is broken and failing. You will die, and I will be alone. We will be a sad story.”  
Toshiro tried to pull Kinta away from the telescope, but the obnoxious toddler had managed to get a grip on the scope and refused to move.   
“Come on,” Toshiro hissed into his brother’s ear. They really shouldn’t be here now. The adults had clearly moved on to a very private conversation. He really, really didn’t want to be here for this.  
“I don’t want to be a sad story for you, Nemu,” Ukitake said gently. “Perhaps we should end it now, while it’s still a happy story.”  
“I’ll get you candy,” Toshiro hissed, and Kinta let go. They both tumbled to the ground together.  
Nemu and Ukitake were instantly beside the boys, helping them to their feet and brushing them off. It took a couple minutes for Toshiro to get them to let him and Kinta go, but finally he managed to assure them they were both fine and headed back across the grass to the main party.

Toshiro had his sandals on, but Rangiku was still crawling around trying to find Kinta’s. “How can you lose your shoes? You always take them off in the entry. Every single time we come home you take your shoes off and leave them right here. How can you lose them?” she was muttering as she looked under a cabinet to see if they’d somehow slid beneath it.  
Miyako appeared abruptly in the open doorway and immediately demanded, “What did you do?”  
Rangiku sat up, knocking her head into the drawer Kinta had helpfully opened to look in. “What? Ow! Damn--I mean darn it! What do you mean--Kinta! Knock it off!”  
The boy was happily repeating, “Damn, damn, damn, damn,” as he pulled his sandals from the drawer.  
“You must have said something,” Miyako accused. “Only you could inspire this level of insanity! What did you say to my captain?”  
Gin appeared from the hall. “Hello, Miyako. What insanity has Rangiku inspired today?”  
“They’ve eloped!” Miyako exclaimed. “Nobody knows when they left! There was just a note saying not to worry, and they’ll be back in a few weeks! How can we not worry? What did you say? Why would you do this to us?”  
Rangiku sat down on the tile floor and Kinta plopped down on her lap. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t. I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”  
“I assume from the volume it must be Captain Ukitake and Nemu,” Gin said. “Who else would inspire such panic? What did you say to them, Ran?”  
“Nothing! I barely saw either of them!” Rangiku protested. “It’s not my fault!”  
Then her expression abruptly changed, and she was grinning hugely. “Did they really elope, Miya-chan? Are you sure?”  
“The note was in Captain Ukitake’s handwriting, and he and Nemu are nowhere to be found. No one knows anything; we’ve checked with his family and Captain Kurotsuchi, but they didn’t speak to anyone, not even Captain Kyoraku, and no one saw them leave the division.  
“Kaien tried to locate the captain’s reiatsu, but he couldn’t find anything. He’s sent people to the gates to find out if they’ve gone to Rukongai. How could he think that we wouldn’t worry?” Miyako said. Then her eyes widened. “He’s never been so inconsiderate; leaving a little note like that, it’s not like him at all. Do you think it could be some sort of trick? Maybe he was taken and someone is trying to make us think he left of his own will!”  
“There is no one alive who could have stolen Captain Ukitake and Lieutenant Kurotsuchi from the party last night without causing some sort of disturbance someone would have noticed,” Gin said, lying as he was honestly fairly certain Aizen could manage it if he had really wanted to, but that was beside the point because he hadn’t. “Your captain has run off to have some fun with his very sexy girlfriend, possibly wife. I think you should be happy for him.”  
Miyako glared at him. “That’s because you don’t know the captain. He would never do something so reckless, and, if he did, he must have a very good reason for it--or Rangiku said something--are you sure you didn’t say anything? You’ve inspired people to do some pretty stupid things.”  
Toshiro considered telling them about Nemu and the captain’s talk the night before about stories with happy endings and sad endings and death, but he decided it really wasn’t anyone’s business. He couldn’t begin to understand why anyone would want to run off and get married, but it seemed like Captain Ukitake should be able to if he wanted to, and it was stupid for the Thirteenth to get so worked up over it.  
“I have not,” Rangiku said in her own defense, “And I didn’t even get a chance to talk to either of them, but I, at least, am very happy for them. If they’re in love why shouldn’t they get married if they want to? And I’m not at all surprised they’d want to avoid all the fuss people would make if they had a proper wedding. A wedding would be torture for both of them, being the center of attention like that.”  
Miyako shook her head. “It’s still not right. The captain doesn’t do these things. He’s always very careful to let us know where he is, and he always takes someone with him who can care for him in case he has a bad spell if he has to leave Seireitei. He would never do anything to make us worry. He’s much too considerate.”  
“Does he have a bedtime too?” Gin asked. “Shiro doesn’t, but he’s a pretty responsible kid. He can go just about anywhere in Seireitei these days without bothering to ask permission.”  
Miyako turned her angry gaze on Gin. “It’s not like that. He’s very sick. He could collapse at any moment. Do you have any idea how many times Unohana has told us there was nothing more she could do, and we’d just have to wait and see if he pulled through? He needs someone with him who can care for him no matter what happens.”  
“I think Nemu just volunteered,” Gin said, smiling broadly. “They may have a different idea of what sort of care he needs is all.” He stepped down into his sandals and walked right past Miyako, not bothering to wait for an answer. “Come on, boys, breakfast awaits.”  
“He needs to be careful,” Miyako said after the three Ichimaru men had left, closing the door behind them. She sounded worried, but her earlier panic was gone and in its place was resigned helplessness.  
“He’s not going to have a heart attack if they have sex, is he?” Rangiku asked as she pulled her own sandals over her tabi.  
Miyako’s eyes widened, and for a moment she just stared at Rangiku like she’d said the most offensive possible thing, but she eventually managed to shake her head. “His heart’s fine. It’s just his lungs, but still--” she put her hands over her face. “I don’t want to think about it--it’s worse than my parents! Eugh!” Her hands dropped and she glared down at Rangiku. “I cannot believe I helped you get them together!”  
“It was your idea,” Rangiku had to point out.  
“I know!” Miyako said. “But it wasn’t supposed to work!” She sighed and sat down beside Rangiku. “I am glad he’s happy, I am, and I love Nemu, I do. I’m glad everything’s worked out so well for them. But it’s impossible not to worry. I don’t think there’s a day I haven’t worried about the captain since I joined the Thirteenth.  
“I know most of the Gotei thinks he’s a useless captain because he’s out sick so often, and Kaien does most of the day to day work of running the division, but Captain Ukitake has a very important role in the Gotei. He spends a lot of time with the General and even Central 46 working on policy and advising on complicated issues. He keeps them all just a little more humane. None of the other captains could or would even try because it takes so much time and patience. There’s so much that is so frustrating about dealing with them and their constant political games. If--when he dies things are going to be harder for all of us, unless we somehow miraculously find another person strong enough to make captain who also has the patience to deal with all of those people, the intelligence to find a reasonable compromise everyone will agree to in the most impossible situations and, most importantly of all, who loves the individual people of Soul Society enough to dedicate his life to protecting them from any injustice.”  
Rangiku sighed. “I have to admit that the type of person that seeks captain isn’t usually high on patience or particularly interested in thankless jobs, even on the rare occasion when their egos are small enough that they even notice the existence of other people. I’ve always kind of wondered how Ukitake made captain in the first place. He just doesn’t seem like the type.”  
“I think it was mostly because Kyoraku wanted to, and they really do do almost everything together, and it made the general happy to see his handpicked students succeed, but in the end he is like any other man. If you tell him there’s something he can’t do he’ll do it just to prove you wrong.”  
Rangiku laughed at that. “You know he’s going to be alright, don’t you? Nemu may have no common sense, but she knows what to do if he gets sick, and she’s not going to panic or do anything to make things worse. In the end it’ll probably be a good thing for your division. You won’t have to have someone checking in on the captain all the time. You can leave that to Nemu.”  
Miyako grinned. “Kaien checked in at the Twelfth first thing in the morning, and he said Captain Kurotsuchi was already complaining about Nemu abandoning him and threatening to demote her in favor of someone less susceptible to pretty boys.”  
“Well,” Rangiku said slowly. “I have always thought Captain Ukitake was pretty, but I’m a bit partial to white hair. I didn’t think anyone else had noticed.”  
Miyako shook her head. “I guess I should get to work. I’m going to have to spend the day calming the division down. Kiyone and Sentaro are going to be impossible.”  
Rangiku hopped to her feet. “Good luck with that. If they were in my division I’d have sent them both on permanent assignment to the World of the Living, as far away from each other as possible.”  
“They’re not half as aggravating to deal with as your husband,” Miyako said, defending her division members.  
Rangiku smiled proudly. “No one is.”


	37. Chapter 37

“Zu-zu, what are you doing here?”  
Kira Izuru stood up slowly with cheeks that had flushed brilliant pink. He’d been counting rolled bandages in a supply cabinet for inventory.  
“It's Izuru, sir. Kira Izuru,” Kira said. “I work here, sir.”  
“Is that right?” Gin said, sitting down on an empty bed. “Rangiku’s around here somewhere with Shiro-chan. He went and fainted on us again.”  
“I’m sorry to hear that, sir,” Kira said uncomfortably. He really was supposed to be finishing that inventory.  
“Well, it’s summer. Happens every year. What can you do? Kinta doesn’t seem to mind the heat. I’m supposed to be watching him, but Isana-chan asked to borrow him. So here I am with nothing to do. Nice running into a friend,” he added.  
Kira blushed again. “Thank you, sir.”  
“You like working in Division Four?”  
“Captain Unohana is a great woman, sir.”  
“That she is, also terrifying,” he glanced over his shoulder. “Thought she might be standing behind me. She does that, you know?”  
“Yes, sir,” Kira agreed.  
“I was just wondering, Kira-kun, if you were still interested in being on the front lines, risking your life to protect the innocent and all.”  
“Sir?”  
“Remember you telling me you wanted to be more than a healer. If you’re still interested I’m in need of a lieutenant. I've been stuck doing all the division paperwork myself for far too long. Think you'd like the job?”  
Kira stared at Gin. “You would consider me for lieutenant, sir?”  
“You’ve mastered your shikai, haven’t you?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
“Then what’s the problem? The job’s yours if you want it,” Gin said, standing abruptly. “I’d better fetch Kinta before Ran finds out I’ve dumped him on Isana. Just show up in the morning if you think you’d like to give it a try.”  
Kira stared at the empty doorway. If he ever thought he’d make lieutenant this was not how he’d thought it might happen. Captain Ichimaru had to be the strangest of all the captains. Even Captain Kurotsuchi wouldn’t ask a random shinigami he’d only spoken to once years before to be his lieutenant. It was just bizarre. He decided he’d speak to Captain Unohana about it as soon as he could be sure Ichimaru had left the building.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“Enter.”  
Kira stepped into the office with a very worried expression on his face.  
Unohana raised her head and smiled gently. “Are you here about Captain Ichimaru’s offer?” she asked.  
“You know about it?” he said in surprise.  
“Of course. Captain Ichimaru asked for recommendations from other captains three months ago. You were my suggestion. He requested your records last month, and we’ve spoken several times. We agreed you were the best match for the position. You are very conscientious and focused, and yet able to adapt quickly to change. Captain Ichimaru's only real concern is your lack of self confidence. Humility is not a character trait he has much familiarity with.”  
“You think I'm ready to be a lieutenant?” Kira asked.  
“I would not have recommended you otherwise. The question,” she said, calmly, “Is whether you believe you can handle working for Captain Ichimaru.”  
Kira stared at her for a moment, trying to imagine what working for Ichimaru would be like. It was impossible. When he tried to think about what he actually knew about the captain all that came to mind was the memory of a much younger man clutching his zanpakuto like a lifeline while his wife brought their son into the world. Rumors said the Captain of the Third was heartless, but that was one thing Kira was certain he was not. It made him wonder if anything he’d heard about Ichimaru was true. “What do you think of him, Captain?” he asked; the Captain of the Fourth was far more perceptive than most.  
Unohana smiled at his question. “I think it is unlikely any of us truly know Captain Ichimaru. I have seen him treat his wife with a kindness and devotion that I doubt many would believe, but I have also seen him act with such casual cruelty, seemingly only for his own amusement, that I wonder if he can even perceive the pain of others. He is intelligent, cautious, and hardworking, but chooses to present himself as careless and lazy. I think it would be difficult for anyone to serve as his lieutenant, but I think you would provide balance for the division as a more compassionate leader, without undermining his authority, and your respect for him would help the entire division to finally really accept their captain.  
“But I also expect he will do everything he can to make you regret taking the position. It is almost like a compulsion, for Captain Ichimaru, to learn the weaknesses of everyone around him and exploit them for his own entertainment. If you cannot take constant reminders of your own failings or if you have any secrets you cannot bear others learning I would recommend you refuse the position, otherwise you should accept with pride. You are the first in your class to advance to the position of lieutenant. I am certainly proud of you. You have worked hard to improve yourself in every field. You have definitely earned this honor.”  
“Thank you, Captain Unohana,” Kira said, bowing low. “I think--I think I will take Captain Ichimaru's offer, but I am sure I will miss you and this division. It has become like home to me.”  
“And like any child who has grown up and moved on you are most welcome to come back to visit.”  
Kira bowed again. “Thank you, Captain.”  
“Good luck, Kira.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku grinned as she surveyed her assembled guests. Young people were such fun and Gin appointing a new lieutenant had given her the perfect opportunity to invite all his lieutenant’s young friends over. She was especially proud of herself for figuring out she needed to invite Kuchiki Rukia as well, even if it had been Miyako who’d pointed out that Rukia had been at the Academy with the others.  
“I am so glad you all could come!” she declared as she sat down at the end of the table.  
“It was very kind of you to invite us, Ichimaru-san,” Hinamori Momo said, bowing politely yet again.  
Rangiku smiled. “I told you, it’s Rangiku,” she said with a laugh. “Ichimaru-san makes me feel so old!”  
“We are old to them, Ran-chan,” Gin said from the opposite end of the table.  
His wife glared at him for a second. He was still sulking about having to be at her party at all. He’d offered to take Toshiro and Kinta out while she had all the kids over, but she thought it was important he be there. They would expect him to be there. “We’re younger than Captain Kuchiki, and he’s Rukia-chan’s big brother so we can’t be that old, can we?”  
The red-head, Renji, spoke up at that. “Did you know Captain Kuchiki when he was a kid?”  
Everyone suddenly looked at her with interest, even Toshiro who was almost as annoyed as his dad about having to be there. She didn’t see why since he’d been visiting the Fifth Division at least weekly since he’d met Hinamori, but she supposed it was because he didn’t want to share the girl’s attention.  
Rangiku shook her head. “Oh, no,” she said, quickly. “We grew up in Rukongai.”  
“But we lived between the Kuchiki estate and the Sixth Division for quite a few years,” Gin said. “And Rangiku tried to pick a fight with the captain the first month we lived there.”  
“You got in a fight with Nii-sama?” Rukia said, her voice equal parts horrified and impressed.  
“No, I just bumped into him,” Rangiku said, giving Gin a look.  
“You called him spoiled, arrogant, and inbred,” Gin said.  
“You said that?” Renji said. The other three looked horrified.  
“And he said you should get your loud-mouthed wife off the street!” Rangiku snapped back, before breaking off and turning to the others, forcing a smile. “It all worked out just fine. I was a little out of sorts is all. We’d just gotten married and moved into a new house, and I was cold all the time--that was because of Toshiro, but I didn’t know that then. I thought the house had to be absolutely full of holes, and there was a hole in the roof Gin was trying to fix. I was just terribly upset about how poor we were, and Kuchiki Byakuya walks right into me like I wasn’t even worth seeing, and then says it’s my fault! Well, he shouldn’t be surprised when a hugely pregnant woman loses her temper and says something a little bit rude!”  
The four young people just stared at her, not knowing quite what to say.  
“Well, I am a loud-mouth and I know it, but it was ridiculous of him to expect Gin to do anything about it,” Rangiku added.  
“Too true,” Gin agreed. “And you weren’t even drunk that time.”  
“But I get along just fine with Captain Kuchiki now. That was all in the distant past; we’ve worked it out years ago,” Rangiku told her captive audience. “I was very good friends with his wife, Hisana--you must be related to her somehow, Rukia. You do look exactly like her.”  
Rukia smiled bashfully and bobbed her head, “Thank you, but I don’t know how I could have been related. I never knew her.”  
“Miya-chan says you’re not much like her though. You’re a fighter. Poor Hisana was always so nervous about everything. She’d do just about anything to avoid a fight. It’s a wonder she survived in Rukongai as long as she did. People like you and me are more usual for Rukongai. We had to be tough. At least I had Gin to watch out for me--what about you, Renji? Did you look out for Rukia when you were kids?”  
Renji and Rukia exchanged glances. Renji blushed and quickly turned away stuttering, and Rukia answered instead. “We were a team,” she told Rangiku. “There were a lot of us for a while, but not everyone made it.”  
Rangiku nodded sadly. “Sometimes I almost forget how hard it was, but then sometimes I look at Shiro-chan and I remember, and I think how hard it would have been for him if we weren’t shinigami. He doesn’t know how lucky he is, but I think that’s good because it means we’ve been able to protect him.”  
Toshiro was frowning and trying to ignore the way everyone was looking at him like he was just some sheltered little kid.  
“I grew up in Seireitei too,” Kira said abruptly. “I guess I was lucky too. I didn’t think so though. I had a seriously scary grandmother.”  
“Rumiko-ba-chan wasn’t scary!” Rangiku protested.  
“That’s because you were a young mother,” Gin said, siding with Kira. “She felt sorry for you. She was absolutely terrifying to the rest of us. She was always hitting me on the head with that cane!”  
Everyone else laughed as Gin rubbed his head. Only Hinamori looked a bit shocked.  
“But weren’t you an officer of the Gotei 13?”  
“I was a lieutenant back then,” Gin told her. “Aizen was the only captain I ever served and the Fifth was my only division.”  
“You must miss it,” Hinamori said with sudden enthusiasm. “I love being in the Fifth, and I'm sure Captain Aizen must be the best captain--oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I'm sure you're also a very good captain.”  
“I don't think so, but it is kind of you to say,” Gin answered, grinning. “Kira has probably told you just how awful I am.”  
“Sir, I would never--”  
Kira was thankfully saved from having to defend himself by the sudden appearance of Kinta. The small child pulled open the sliding door behind his mother, calmly surveyed the group of strangers, turned to his mother and started wailing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku tucked Kinta into the bottom bunk. Now that Toshiro was going to bed he had agreed to stay put. Moving the two boys out of their parents’ room had been a long process, mostly because Rangiku still wasn’t completely sure how she felt about it, but Kinta loved the idea of sharing a room with Nii-chan, even if he was a bit uncooperative in actual practice. He was currently grinning happily, knowing Toshiro was on the upper bunk.  
“Good night, baby,” Rangiku said, kissing him on the head.  
Then she stood up and smiled at Toshiro, who had pointedly turned his back. He had recently decided he wasn’t going to put up with good night kisses anymore. “Good night, Shiro-chan,” she said, brushing her hand over his white hair.  
“Good night,” he mumbled back at her.  
She smiled and whispered, “I love you, my darlings,” as she left the room.  
Gin slid his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his chest. “I’ve got to say, your Miya-chan has the best ideas. First having the division doing the cleaning and now the boys in their own room; the woman is brilliant.”  
Rangiku turned around, grinning hugely. “Oh, but making Kira your lieutenant was even better! I am going to have so much fun! He’s so sweet.”  
Gin sighed as she pulled away, still talking about Kira. “And he’s in love with Momo-chan; you could tell, couldn’t you? And poor Renji-kun, he could barely say a word to Rukia, but the way he looked at her! I feel sorry for both of them; those girls are so clueless!”  
Rangiku went quickly into their room and pulled their futons from the closet. “How can they miss how those boys feel about them? I just don’t understand. I don’t think I ever missed a single crush. Boys are just so obvious. I wonder if I should tell them? Maybe Momo-chan might give up her crush on Aizen if she knew there was someone who liked her who isn’t completely unattainable.”  
She had pulled out the blankets and pillows and was setting out the bedding just like she did every night, not even noticing how Gin watched her from the doorway. “Not that Captain Aizen isn’t a good man and worthy of admiration, but even I can tell he’s simply not interested in women. I could walk right past him, stark naked, and he wouldn’t even turn his head.”  
“Maybe you should try it,” Gin answered. “Add a little excitement to the Gotei. Aizen might not be interested, but I promise you my reaction would make up for it.”  
“Don't be silly. You know I’d never do anything like that, not even drunk. I’m just saying Momo-chan is wasting her time, and Kira is a very sweet boy, and she ought to give him a chance,” Rangiku said, as she began to remove her shihakusho.  
“Do you need some help with that?” Gin interrupted.  
“I suppose you could talk to him, but knowing you, you’d only make things worse,” Rangiku said as she dropped her kosode on the floor.  
“I wasn’t offering to help with Kira,” Gin answered.  
“Then what were you offering to help with?” Rangiku demanded, finally raising her head.  
“Looked like you might be having trouble with a knot,” he said.  
“What?” Rangiku’s eyes dropped to her hands on her hakama ties. “Oh--don’t you have to work?”  
“What do you think I got a lieutenant for?”  
A smile spread across Rangiku’s face. “I knew you were brilliant!”


	38. Chapter 38

“Today is the Tenth Annual Women’s Shinigami Association Chocolate Day,” Yachiru announced happily.   
Her eyes shifted to Lieutenant Hisagi seated beside Nanao, holding a pen and pad of paper. He was officially here to do a piece for Seireitei Communication, but he looked mostly like he was trying to hide from the rest of the Women’s Association behind the other lieutenant. “We will let you try a sample from each dish, Spiky,” Yachiru told him. “But if you get greedy we’re gonna boot you all the way back to the Ninth.”  
“Yes, ma’am, thank you,” Hisagi answered. Yachiru was always terrifying when any food was involved, but in the presence of a dozen different chocolate desserts every one of the women resembled lions on the prowl.   
Chocolate was a rarity in Seireitei, all of it having to be brought from the World of the Living. Urahara had started selling it to shinigami not long after his removal to the World of the Living, and it had caught on among the women despite their rare opportunities to sample it. Over the past decade the Senkaimon governing council had begun to complain about the volume of chocolate passing through the gates and had attempted various forms of regulation.  
The Women's Shinigami Association was their greatest enemy. Captains Unohana and Soifon made sure chocolate was not banned altogether, and Nanao worked tirelessly to protect supply lines. Of late most chocolate had found its way to Seireitei through the Senkaimon of the Four Great Houses.  
Chocolate Day was the creation of Yachiru, but everyone participated. Each woman had made a dessert using chocolate and brought it to share. The first couple of years they had had competitions, but in the end had decided that just pigging out together was more fun.  
Hisagi was the first adult male permitted to attend. The women had held an emergency meeting two days earlier to decide if they could afford to share. Toshiro and Kinta were always welcome, but it was held at their house, and Toshiro helped Rangiku make multiple varieties of chocolate ice cream.  
Toshiro grabbed a bowl of ice cream, said a polite hello to all the women, and retreated as quickly as he could, but Hisagi was forced to stay. He watched the women dig in at the table full of heavenly dishes but didn’t dare touch anything himself. Instead he jotted down a few notes as to the appearance of various foods and tried not to be noticed.  
“We’re not going to bite, you know,” Nanao said, interrupting his careful description of a whipped cream and fudge confection.  
Hisagi raised his head and risked a slight smile; she was holding out a plate of desserts. “Thanks,” he told her as he took the plate and a metal fork from her hands.  
He hadn’t ever actually used a fork before, but how hard could it be? After a couple of stabs at the chocolate soufflé Unohana herself had prepared he was beginning to doubt himself. He seemed to be murdering the delicate soufflé rather than managing to pick any of it up.  
Beside him, he heard a huff of frustration. “Honestly, how helpless can you be?” Nanao demanded.  
She leaned against him to take the fork from his hand and adjust his grip. “It’s not difficult to use a fork. It’s much simpler than chopsticks. All you have to do is hold it properly, and try to stop stabbing at your food. Use more of a scooping motion.”  
He didn’t hear much of what she said. He was too focused on her breasts pressing against his arm.  
“Give it a try,” Nanao suggested, and when he did nothing she raised her head. She immediately noticed the direction of his gaze and the pink tinge to his cheeks.  
She sat back immediately, her own cheeks turning an echoing pink from embarrassment. “Aren't you supposed to be asking questions?” she said stiffly.  
He didn’t answer. He seemed to have been frozen in place. His brain had been short-circuited by her proximity. “Idiot,” she snarled under her breath. Then, forcing a calm, sensible expression to her face, she said, “Lieutenant Hisagi, didn’t you have--Shuhei!”  
Hisagi jerked his head up, blinking like he’d been woken from a deep sleep. “What, Nanao--I mean, Lieutenant Ise, what is it?”  
“Didn’t you have some questions you wanted to ask us all?” she said coldly.  
“Right, yes, for the newspaper, I do,” he scrambled around for the notepad he’d set aside when she’d served him, and flipped through the pages quickly. “Um, do you have a favorite dessert?”  
Nanao raised an eyebrow. “That's the best you could come up with?”  
“There are follow ups,” he defended.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku watched the interaction between Nanao and Hisagi with some interest. Nanao was her usual no-nonsense self and Hisagi was as helpless as ever. He struggled to get through his interview questions while Nanao proved she could be both cooperative and completely impossible at the same time. Every answer she gave was either short and so general as to be completely useless for his article or long and technical enough that he had no hope of following, much less using her explanation in the paper.  
She was currently explaining the argument with the Senkaimon operators in extremely boring detail, and Hisagi, one of the most polite men in the entire universe, was listening patiently to the whole thing.  
There really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary in the way they were talking, even the way Hisagi’s eyes occasionally strayed from Nanao’s face to her body was typical of him, but there were two things that made her curious. Nanao had leaned into Hisagi to help him with his fork, and that had to be the first time Rangiku had ever seen Nanao willingly get that close to any man, and secondly, Hisagi had called Nanao by her first name without even following it with ‘san’. There was definitely something going on.  
Rangiku was so focused on the pair across the table that she forgot that she had a toddler sitting next to her with a plate full of chocolate. She was graphically reminded of the fact when, with the only warning a small voice declaring, “It’s for you,” Kinta shoved half a slice of chocolate mousse cake into her mouth and across her face, dropping what did not smear across her skin onto her chest.  
“Kin-chan!” she shrieked, turning on the chocolate-coated child. While she had been distracted watching Nanao and Hisagi, Kinta had liberally decorated himself with a generous portion of every dessert. Even his pretty gold curls were now matted with fudge.  
Everyone else burst out laughing as he grinned at her and said, “It’s yummy!”  
It took everything Rangiku had not to swear a blue streak. “You’re right,” she said, forcing a smile. “And now it’s bath time.”  
She scooped the boy up and turned to her guests. “Please, everyone, don’t worry about us. Take your time; stay as long as you want, and enjoy yourselves. I’m afraid Kin-chan and I are going to have to take our leave here. Good night!”  
Kinta waved a gooey hand at the women over his mother’s shoulder as he was rushed from the room.


	39. Chapter 39

Gin watched the hollow vanish into the woods. Behind him Aizen laughed. “I wonder what the Thirteenth Division will make of my latest experiment.”  
Gin tilted his head slightly. “I think Shiba will be watching the headquarters tonight. Ukitake's been down again,” he said. “That will leave the Third Seat to lead the recon. Won’t be much of a fight.”  
He turned his back on the hollow and the doomed recon team. “Ran’s wanting me home to help with the kids, unless you need me for something?” He looked up at Aizen, waiting to be dismissed.  
“It's disappointing the second is not as impressive as the first, but you never know what time may reveal. He could grow to be useful,” Aizen said, watching Gin’s face carefully.  
Gin shrugged. “Ah, well, kids are just a roll of the dice, aren't they? I've never been particularly lucky.”  
“Isn't that why you cheat?”  
“Haven’t figured out how in this case--maybe you ought to start a shinigami breeding program, match all your favorite traits. Ran’s always trying to set people up. Ukitake and Nemu aren’t a bad match, and you could suggest a few more for her to work on. She’d love it, pairing off all her little friends, and give it one, two hundred years, and we’ll have a nice new stock of graduates, better than Kira-kun and all his little friends.”  
Aizen smiled. “We no longer have centuries, a few more years and everything will be complete. I may consider your suggestion afterwards. The combination of shinigami and Arrancar, ah, well, we will see.”  
“Then I can get going?” Gin said, tilting his head in the direction of Seireitei.  
“Of course,” Aizen said, with a careless wave of his hand.  
Gin vanished in a burst of shunpo. He stopped again two miles away. He could feel Aizen move past him, also on his way to the city.  
He stood for a moment longer, undecided. Why did it have to be Thirteen tonight? And why couldn’t Shiba have been leading the damned recon team? If he couldn’t handle Aizen’s hollow he deserved to die. But Miyako--if Ran lost another friend--and damn it, he still owed Shiba for Kuchiki’s wedding.  
He swore furiously, before he turned and ran back into the forest.  
It wasn’t long before he caught up with the hollow. He stayed back as far as he could while still following it. He couldn’t be seen. If just one person realized he was here it would be over.  
He heard the moment the team found the hollow. The sick bastard was playing with them, turning them on each other. He moved closer, quickly but carefully, trying to stay out of their sight while finding a place for one clear shot.  
Eight had fallen before he found the perfect place, still hidden in the trees, over a hundred yards away. He watched another of the men fall, and the hollow turned to Miyako.  
“Bankai,” he said as he pulled the zanpakuto from its sheath. The blade extended across the distance instantly, splitting the hollow’s mask in two and returning before anyone could have followed its path.  
The hollow, too strong to kill with a single hit, began to melt as the poison Gin had planted within it activated. Within seconds it fell and turned to sparkling dust, yet another human soul freed from the darkness.  
Gin turned and ran, pushing his shunpo to a speed he’d never achieved before. He could not be seen, could not be caught. He had to get home. He had to be home now, so no one could ever wonder if he had been the one to end the hollow.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“Gin, what happened?” Rangiku demanded as he appeared suddenly on the porch and dropped down onto his knees through the open doorway.  
He brought his hands up to cover his face as he shook his head. It was over and done. There was nothing he could do. Aizen would discover his betrayal and they would all die or he wouldn’t and they would live. That’s all there was.  
Rangiku ran to his side and dropped down beside him, running her hands over him, trying to see if he was hurt. “Gin, please,” she whispered. “Please tell me.” Her hands traveled over his back and up his sides and across his chest, finding no signs of injury. “Please, tell me what’s wrong,” she begged, taking hold of his hands and trying to pull them away from his face.  
He moved suddenly, pulling her into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Ran, so sorry,” he whispered into her hair.  
She reached her arms around his waist. “It’s alright. Whatever it is, it’s alright.”  
He shook his head, but he wouldn’t say anything more.  
Rangiku sighed. How long would he keep these secrets? It was approaching a hundred years. “Gin, it doesn’t matter,” she told him. “I don’t care who you’ve killed or what you’ve done, just so long as you come home to me.”  
His grip tightened almost painfully. “Someday, if I don’t come home--”  
“You have to,” she protested. “I’m not asking anything else. Just please, always--”  
“If I don’t,” he interrupted. “You have to know I want to. If it’s in my power, if I can make the choice, I will always come home to you.”  
“You’d better,” Rangiku said, fighting back tears that were trying to choke her.  
“If I can,” he promised. “I will.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Gin wasn’t surprised when Kaien and Miyako appeared at his home the next evening. He was just relieved it wasn’t Aizen. Of course, a simple confrontation wasn’t Aizen’s style. Aizen would play with him first; let him think he’d made it clear; then he’d start dropping little hints; he’d love to watch Gin panic, give him enough time to try to escape, and then stop him at the very last moment, force him to watch Rangiku and the boys pay for his mistake. Gin wasn’t sure if Aizen would kill him then or if he’d keep him alive to play with. He did enjoy experimenting on live subjects.  
He watched Rangiku welcome the couple in. Miyako was a mess. She looked like she’d spent the entire night crying, which Gin supposed was probably a natural reaction to watching your entire team die around you, but still seemed to him like a waste of energy. Rangiku was quick to hug her friend and bring her inside, sitting her down on the couch beside her and saying all those comforting things Rangiku was always so good at saying.  
Within a couple of minutes Toshiro brought in a tray of tea, and his brother trailed him with a tray of snacks. After they said hello Toshiro dragged his grinning little brother from the room with a promise to play. He was smart enough to see that his mom and Miyako did not need to have to deal with his brother’s nonstop antics.  
“Could I have a moment of your time, Captain?” Kaien said to Gin as soon as the boys left the room.  
“Let's take a little walk,” Gin suggested.  
They walked side by side through the forested area of Division Three. Gin talked about the boys. Children were perfect for talking about when you didn’t want to say anything. There were always plenty of stories to tell.  
Kaien stopped abruptly when they were a good distance from anyone who might overhear. “You saved Miyako’s life last night,” he said, bowing stiffly. “Thank you.”  
“Are you sure?” Gin asked, his most innocent, puzzled look taking the place of his usual smile. “I don’t remember having done so. I expect I would remember something like that. Maybe I should ask Ran-chan?”  
Kaien did not seem amused. “A single strike to a hollow by a retractable blade from at least a hundred yards away,” he said simply.  
“That does sound like me. Do you think someone else may have learned to copy my shikai?”  
“You also let nine members of the Thirteenth die before you acted,” Kaien said, seriously. “I took Miyako’s report to the captain this morning. He’s not well, but after an incident of this magnitude my only other choice would have been to take it directly to the general. If I had I know you would immediately have been required to explain yourself to the assembled captains.   
“Before that happens we have agreed to give you this chance to explain yourself. Tell me why you did what you did, give me a reason to give my captain, so he will not have to take this any further. It’s clear you need this to stay secret, but if we are going to do that for you we need to know why.”  
Gin almost managed to look offended. “I don’t see how I did anything that anyone needs to make such a fuss about. All I did was repay my debt, and I’m treated like a criminal. I’d think you’d appreciate having your wife saved. Are you already getting tired of her?”  
Kaien grabbed hold of Gin’s shihakusho, forcing Gin to look him directly in the eye as he spoke. His voice was low and filled with suppressed rage. “She sensed you there the whole time. She felt you approach on the hollow’s tail. She knew you were there, standing nearby, watching them die, doing nothing. You saved her life, and that is the only reason I am asking you, tell me why you let them die.”  
Gin looked down at the hand clutching his clothing. “I think you may have forgotten you are speaking to a captain, Shiba-kun. You might have to be punished.”  
Kaien let go of him, but he didn’t back off. “What are you going to do, get rid of me, Miyako, and Captain Ukitake? That’s ambitious even for you.”  
Gin shrugged. “I do what’s necessary.”  
Kaien took a deep breath. “This time it’s necessary for you to explain how the hell you’re involved with these overpowered hollows that have been appearing and why you let one kill our men,” he said as calmly as he could.  
Gin turned away. “Can’t you simply be glad Miyako survived?” he asked softly.  
“You think I would even be offering to hide your involvement otherwise? Nine people died, Captain Ichimaru. You let them die. Why?”  
Gin closed his eyes, trying to sense Aizen’s reiatsu in the chaos of reishi that was Seireitei. He appeared to be in the Fifth, but appearances couldn’t be trusted. Nothing he could see or sense could ever be trusted. Any confidence he’d had that Rangiku was safe was gone forever. He could never know if Aizen knew of his betrayal. “I should have let Miyako die with them,” Gin said, softly. “How could saving her life be worth risking Rangiku’s?”  
He raised his head and his eyes widened, his bright blue eyes stared at Kaien, but the anger that glowed so bright was directed inward. “The question is not why I let them die, it’s why did I save your wife? I have spent nearly a hundred years proving I am a monster worthy of including in his plans and this is how I fail? Saving a woman I don’t even like?”  
He started laughing, suddenly. The absurdity of it all was suddenly very clear, how very futile it had been from the beginning. Maybe if he had let go of Rangiku he could have become the monster he pretended to be. He could have cut himself off from everyone and simply ceased to feel, but Rangiku kept pulling him back, forcing him to interact with everyone, to see them as more than tools for his game.  
Kaien and Miyako, in particular, had always been around, helping with Toshiro, laughing with Rangiku, and somehow, stupidly, he had started to think of them as friends. He couldn’t afford friends. Everyone had to be expendable. It was the only way to stay by Aizen’s side, the only way he’d ever find that one chance to kill Aizen.  
“Who have you been working with?” Kaien demanded. “And what are his plans? What have you done?”  
Gin smiled from ear to ear. “You would never believe me. I wouldn’t. His reputation is irreproachable, and everyone knows I’m a liar. He planned that too, I’m sure. Even if I tried to warn Soul Society no one would listen. None of you will believe it until he decides to show you, and by then you will already have lost.”  
“Try me,” Kaien suggested. “You saved Miyako. I’m in the mood to believe you.”  
Gin shook his head. “On the off chance that he doesn’t know what I’ve done, I should hold my tongue. You, your captain, and Miyako all suddenly suspicious of him, he could hardly fail to realize where your suspicions would come from.”  
“Then tell me what you can. What are his plans? What do we need to prepare against.”  
“His plan? The reordering of the universe with himself as God Almighty I’m sure, not that he’s said as much. He says he will remove the limits to our power, giving us not only the power of shinigami but also of hollows. That’s why he plays with hollows, making them more like shinigami; he tried the other way around, but he didn’t seem completely happy with the results. Shinigami are not nearly as grateful for upgrades as hollows are,” Gin said with a shrug. “And Urahara Kisuke got involved and pretty much turned it all into a mess.”  
“You’re talking about what happened a hundred years ago? When we lost three captains? You’re saying Urahara wasn’t responsible for that?”  
“Does anyone really think he was?” Gin scoffed at the idea. “I suppose if it helps you sleep better at night.”  
“But Urahara accused Aizen--” Kaien broke off. He shook his head and his expression immediately became suspicious. “Are you saying Captain Aizen is behind everything? You might as well accuse Captain Ukitake.”  
“I’m not accusing anyone. I’m giving you one warning. His shikai is not what he’s led you to believe. It is perfect illusion, affecting every sense. For all I know he could be standing here listening to every word we say; you could be him, there’s no way I could tell the difference. If I live through today I will never speak to you about any of this again; I won’t take this chance again. But I’ve already risked it, so here it is: there’s no way to fight him unless you are touching his zanpakuto when he activates the illusion. That is the one and only way to see through it, so my only hope is to stay by his side and bide my time, waiting for an opening to end him. There’s nothing else anyone can do. No matter how strong the combined captains are, they cannot destroy someone they cannot see, hear, feel, or sense in any way unless he wants them to.”  
“Enough!” Kaien shouted. “Enough of your goddamned games! Tell me the truth! You know what is happening; you’ve known for years. You’re a part of it. But whatever is happening, it’s time it ended. You can either tell me the truth of what’s going on and help stop them or you can go down with them.”  
“You don’t like that story? How about this: maybe I’m the one remaking hollows. Maybe I will bring down Soul Society all on my own, and I only spared Miyako last night to put you off your guard.” Gin was smiling again. “You can’t know, can you, Shiba? So what will you do? Will you report to the Gotei what I did when it could cost Rangiku and the boys their lives? But if I’m the true villain then it might be the Gotei’s best chance to stop me, before I have had time to complete my plans. It’s your duty to report me; it is. I allowed shinigami to be slaughtered and may be in league with hollows--no, let me make it even easier for you; I am in league with hollows. I am a murderer and a traitor, but, if you believe me, I am also the only person in a position to stop the destruction of Soul Society.”  
Kaien’s hand went to his zanpakuto, but he stopped. “Damn you, Ichimaru Gin! How can I possibly know the truth?”  
“No idea,” Gin answered. “I don’t really worry about it too much myself. As long as Rangiku stays happy and safe I don’t really see how it matters.”  
Kaien smiled. “She does matter to you, doesn’t she?”  
Gin took a sudden step back, startled by the question. He almost answered Kaien like he always did Aizen, a laugh or a shrug, and something about how she amused him or helped to pass the time, but he stopped. Kaien was here because he had almost lost his own wife the night before; he was willing to protect Gin from the laws of Soul Society that would already condemn him because he had saved Miyako. Maybe, just maybe, Shiba Kaien might have some understanding of what Rangiku meant to him. “She’s the only thing in the universe that matters at all.”  
Kaien drew a deep breath. “And that I believe. That’s the one thing that makes me wonder if your story could be true. You aren’t doing this on your own or for yourself. She wouldn’t want it. What would be the point of making yourself ruler of anything if you’d lose her for it?  
“It’s moments like these that make me glad I’m not a captain. I will tell Captain Ukitake what you’ve told me, and he will decide what we do next. All I can promise you is that we will do everything we can to protect your family from sharing with you the consequences of your actions.”  
Gin bowed his head slightly. “I would expect no less from the honorable Shiba Kaien.”


	40. Chapter 40

Rangiku could not remember ever having seen Miyako drunk before. It was quite the new experience. Poor little Rukia was just about freaking out. She kept suggesting the two of them go back to the division which was only making Miyako more dramatic.  
Our division? Our division?” Miyako repeated miserably. “It’s not going to be our division anymore! Just your division! You have to promise me,” here she took hold of both of Rukia’s hands and looked her straight in the eyes. “Promise me you will take care of the Captain. He’s always trying to do too much, but you can’t let him. You have to make sure he rests everyday and--”  
“You don’t have to quit,” Nanao said, dryly, unimpressed with Miyako’s tearful performance.  
“You don’t understand!” Miyako declared, releasing Rukia to turn to Nanao. “I do. I have to. If I don’t--”  
She turned to Rangiku, holding Kinta asleep on her lap, as she went through her second bottle of sake. “You understand, don’t you, Rangiku-chan?” Miyako demanded of her friend. “You don’t want to be a burden, do you?”  
Rangiku’s eyes went from Kinta’s golden head to Shiro-chan, sitting in the corner, reading, with his usual enormous pack next to him. Gin had disappeared again, at the last minute, when he knew full well she needed him to watch the kids so she could go out with her friends, and even worse, Kira was already out with friends so she couldn’t leave the boys with him either. “I don’t think I’m the burden in this relationship,” she answered irritably.  
“No!” Miyako agreed strongly. “Of course not, Rangiku-chan! You’d never be a burden. You never lost nine men on one mission!” Tears overflowed her eyes at the memory.  
Rukia was quick to speak up then. “No one blames you for that, Miyako-san. You were fortunate to survive at all. Captain Ukitake says it was another of those strange, mutated hollows, maybe an Arrancar. Very few shinigami below lieutenant could have hoped to defeat it. You should be proud of your accomplishment.”  
Miyako shook her head. “No, no, no, no. I can’t--I’m not that strong. I should have died. I should have, and what would have happened to Kaien? What would he have done if I never came back?”  
“I’m sure he would have been upset,” Nanao agreed, but there was no sign of sympathy in her tone. “But that is the risk we take as shinigami. You two have done very well for many years balancing your fears and duties and have worked together with an unusual degree of success. Kaien-san has never been like Captain Ichimaru, trying to limit your activities to what he considers safe. I don’t see why now you feel that you should quit entirely due to one close call.”  
“Lieutenant Ise’s right,” Rukia agreed. “I'm sure Kaien-san would not want you to give up everything that's important to you. The Gotei 13 is your life. You--”  
“No, it isn't,” Miyako said. “It's not. I love you all so much, and the division, and the captain, and everyone, oh, everyone, but I have the Shiba family, too, you know, and they’ve wanted me to quit for years. Being a shinigami isn’t really what the wife of the Head of the Family is supposed to do. I’ll just go do wife-things now and everyone will be happy.”  
Rukia made a face at that. “Will you be happy?” she asked.  
“We may have to crash your new house with our Women’s Association meetings,” Rangiku declared, grinning. “You’re going to live in a palace! I’d stop being a shinigami too if anyone’d offer me a palace. Instead I’ve got the brokest captain in Seireitei history. If I quit working we’d probably starve.”  
“I doubt that’s true anymore,” Nanao said, coolly. “Captains do receive living allowances along with their salary, and Captain Ichimaru’s should be considerably more than any other captain’s as he has a family to support. I also understand that you get most of your meals from the Third Division cafeteria so it’s doubtful your food would run out anytime soon.”  
Rangiku rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it literally. I just meant there aren’t going to be any palaces in my future, not that I mind, really, but it does leave me the odd one out, doesn’t it?” She looked from Nanao to Miyako and Rukia. All three of them were now highly placed members of important families. They lived in palaces or could if they wanted to. It was a very different sort of life they lived than hers would ever be. Rukia had been from Rukongai and Miyako had spent a lot of time broke before she had gotten married, but not one of them was ever going to have to think about a price tag again.  
“Don’t even try to make us feel sorry for you, Rangiku,” Nanao said. “You’re probably the happiest person we know, and I don’t think there’s even one thing in the world that you actually want that you can’t have. You’re so satisfied with your life that it can be literally nauseating.”  
“Nauseating? Really?” Rangiku looked over at Shiro-chan again before dropping her eyes to Kin-chan. They really were pretty perfect as far as children went. “If you’d let me set you up with someone I bet you could be nauseatingly happy too!”  
Nanao sighed and turned to Rukia. “You’d better watch out, Rukia. Rangiku thinks that men are the secret to true happiness, and she does her best to find one for every woman she knows.”  
“Well, I don’t need one, thank you very much,” Rukia declared.  
“ ‘Course you don’t,” Rangiku agreed. “You’ve already got one. Two would be more trouble than they’re worth.”  
“I don’t have a man!” Rukia protested loudly. “Where did you hear that? If somebody’s spreading rumors about me, I’ll--what?”  
Rangiku’s grin had grown bigger with every word she spoke. “You’re serious? You two still really aren’t together? Wow! You’ve never even noticed, have you?”  
“Noticed what?” Rukia demanded.  
Nanao spoke up before Rangiku could answer. “Leave her alone, Rangiku. She’s clearly not interested. She doesn’t need you meddling in her life.”  
Rangiku turned to Miyako, who was leaning one elbow on the table and yawning. “Were we really that stupid when we were young?” she demanded.  
Miyako shrugged. “Probably.”  
“How exactly am I being stupid?” Rukia demanded.  
“At least I noticed when a man was worshipping the ground I walked on,” Rangiku said.  
“Nah, you just assumed they all were,” Miyako told her. “But they mostly were so you were usually right.”  
Rangiku smiled. “They were, weren't they?” she said, sighing happily. “I had so much fun playing with all the boys. They were always so sweet, buying me presents and things. Rukia, you should be sure to enjoy this time, while you're young and all the boys can't take their eyes off of you. Don't waste it all training and working hard and being responsible. There’ll be plenty of time for that when you're old like the rest of us.”  
“Regardless of how you’d like to consider yourself, Rangiku, I am not old,” Nanao said icily.  
“You were already a lieutenant when me and Miyako graduated from the Academy. You may not be old yet, but you're definitely not young, and I’ll bet you don’t turn heads like you used to either,” Rangiku declared.  
Nanao’s eyes widened, and Miyako cowered back from the lieutenant. “Are you saying,” Nanao said slowly. “That I look old?”  
Rangiku, tipsy though she was, finally seemed to notice she’d annoyed Nanao. “No, of course not,” she said, but her protest didn't sound particularly sincere. “You're very pretty, very, very pretty.”  
“Oh, dear,” a cool voice cut short Nanao's response, and all four women raised their heads at once.  
Gin was standing behind Nanao frowning down on them. “Are you drunk already?” he asked, and then he turned to Toshiro. “Shiro, you really shouldn’t let your mother get this drunk so early. She won’t be able to walk by the time she’s ready to go home--did you plan to carry her and Kin-chan together?”  
Toshiro raised his head to glare at Gin. “I was going to ask Lieutenant Iba or Hisagi for help if you didn’t show up,” he said, gesturing toward the other end of the sakeya where Hisagi, Iba, and several other officers from their divisions were enjoying a somewhat raucous party.  
“I’m fine,” Rangiku declared. “I haven’t drunk very much at all, thank you very much!”  
Gin turned to Nanao. “Lieutenant Ise, would you agree with that?”  
Nanao turned uncomfortably to look up at Gin. “Have you gotten taller?” she asked.  
“Ah, so you’re all drunk, I see,” he said. “I’ll be just a moment.”  
“What is he up to?” Nanao asked as she watched Gin cross the sakeya to the table where the lieutenants were seated.  
Rangiku sighed as she turned the bottle of sake upside down. There wasn’t a drop left. “Ruining my evening out, as usual,” she answered irritably.  
“Tell him to go away,” Nanao suggested. “He’s not my captain so I can’t tell him what to do, but he is yours, I mean he belongs to you, so tell him to go away because we’re not ready to go home.”  
Miyako let out a sound suspiciously like a snore before she sat up abruptly. “Are we going home?” she asked drowsily.  
“Yes, you are,” Gin answered, reappearing with Iba and Hisagi behind him. “Iba is going to make sure you and Rukia-chan make it back to your division safely, and Lieutenant Ise, Hisagi will do the same for you.”  
“Shuhei is not walking me home,” Nanao said, firmly. She stumbled a little as she got to her feet, but that didn’t seem to change her mind. “I’m perfectly fine on my own.”  
“Lieutenant Ise, I’m not about to get a visit in the morning from your captain demanding to know why I allowed you to wander off and fall in a ditch in the middle of the night. Lieutenant Hisagi will walk you home. That’s an order.”  
Rangiku stuck out her tongue at Nanao, who had turned a beautiful shade of red and looked like she might explode at any moment. “Now you know how it feels,” she told Nanao.  
“Not the best of ideas, Ran-chan,” Gin said as he bent over to lift the sleeping boy from her arms.  
“What?” Rangiku demanded, but then she caught sight of Nanao, who very possibly looked angrier than she’d ever seen before. “Time to go, Shiro-chan,” she said, quickly, and hopped to her feet, gripping Gin’s arm with both of hers and putting him and the sleeping Kinta between herself and Nanao.  
Nanao turned abruptly on her heels and said, “Shuhei, I’m leaving now, if you’re going to walk me home I suggest you do the same.”  
After Rangiku watched them leave, and was still waiting for Toshiro to get all his stuff in order, she said, “That wasn’t very nice.”  
“Why not?” Gin asked.  
“There’s something going on between them,” she told him.  
“Oh? You noticed?” Gin said. “That’s my clever girl. I thought I’d give them the chance to work it out.”  
Rangiku shook her head. “Nanao-chan doesn’t want to. She’s been avoiding Shuhei-kun since the Chocolate Party. He always tries to talk to her after the lieutenants meetings, and she always shunpos off. It's getting really annoying. Sometimes I want to talk to her.”  
“Wait, what’s going on?” Iba said, turning to Rangiku. “Do I need to give that kid a talking to? I can make him leave Ise-san alone.”  
Rangiku shook her head. “If Nanao-chan wanted him to leave her alone she’d have blown him up by now. She doesn’t need anybody to defend her. She just needs to figure out what she wants to say and say it.”  
“What’s she got to say to him?” Iba demanded. “He’s got no business bothering a lady like her. She’s better than that.”  
“How is she better?” Rangiku demanded, suddenly leaping to the defense of a fellow former Rukongai resident. Ise Nanao was a lady of a noble family, but she was a lieutenant exactly like Hisagi Shuhei. They were equal, and Rangiku would not allow anyone to say otherwise.  
“Time to go,” Gin declared, catching her around the waist and practically carrying her out the door.  
“What are you doing?” Rangiku demanded.  
“Gotta get the boys to bed,” he declared pleasantly.  
“Oh,” Rangiku said, all the fight driven from her by the reminder of actual responsibilities. “Right.”

Rangiku waited until late afternoon to drop in on Nanao. It wasn’t because of work although she was technically at work all day, it was because it took till then for her hangover to wear off. She really didn’t remember drinking that much.  
She hurried through Division Eight after being told she could find the lieutenant in her room. She hoped Nanao’s headache wasn’t as bad as her own. As she approached her friend’s room, though, she was even more confused.  
Nanao’s door was standing open, and Rangiku could hear Captain Kyoraku, of all people, talking inside.  
“This won’t do,” he was saying. “It really won’t do at all. Haven’t you got anything better? I’m certain I gave you one just a few years ago that was very nice.”  
Rangiku peeked in the door and saw Nanao sitting on her bed looking headachy and annoyed as she stared at her closet. The captain’s voice was coming from inside.  
“May I come in?” Rangiku asked.  
“You might as well,” Nanao said, dully.  
Rangiku came in and sat down beside Nanao. From this angle she could see into the closet. Kyoraku appeared to be going through Nanao’s clothing, and, unsurprising, given their difference in taste, he didn’t look happy.  
“What’s going on?” Rangiku asked.  
Kyoraku turned to her, grinning. “Nanao-chan has a date,” he announced, glowing with pride.  
“Seriously?” Rangiku said, turning to Nanao.  
Nanao sat up straighter and pushed back her glasses before answering, “It’s only a date. It’s nothing to make such a fuss about.”  
“Nanao-chan wanted to wear her shihakusho,” Kyoraku said, shaking his head. “She doesn’t seem to understand how important a first impression can be.”  
“I have known Lieutenant Hisagi for years,” Nanao said, loudly. “I don’t see how I can be making any sort of first impression now.”  
“All of these kimonos would be at home in my great-grandmother’s closet; do you want to remind him of how much older you are?” Kyoraku asked. “It’s all well and good to wear a sagging shihakusho that hides your lovely figure to work, but on a date you want to look like a woman.”  
Nanao stood abruptly. “I’m going back to the office with Rangiku. You can let me know when you’ve decided what I’m going to wear.”  
“Have Rangiku-chan tell you what you should do on a date. You don’t want to make a fool of yourself,” Kyoraku called back.  
Nanao scowled. “He’s loving this.”  
Rangiku nodded. It wasn’t the reaction she had expected from Captain Kyoraku on learning his beloved lieutenant was going on a date, but as she had worried about fire and fury and perhaps the murder of the fool who dared even look at his dear Nanao-chan, it was probably a lot better. “He seems very happy for you.”  
Nanao’s frown only increased. The poor young shinigami walking past them in the hall flinched back and bumped into the wall.  
Nanao did not even look in the boy’s direction, even when he bowed and apologized for being in the way.  
“He’s a useless idiot,” Nanao said angrily. “It only proves I can’t count on him for anything.”  
She threw open the captain’s office door so hard it slammed against the wall. “Useless!” she declared again.  
Rangiku closed the door carefully after she entered. She wasn’t sure, though, that it was really a wise idea. Nanao seemed to be in the mood to strangle someone, and she really hoped it wouldn’t be her.  
Nanao spun around and held up a single finger. “The one thing,” she said. “The one thing I thought I could depend on the captain to do was to throw an enormous fit and forbid me from ever going out with anyone. Why couldn’t he do that? Why couldn’t he be useful just this once?”  
“If you don’t want to go,” Rangiku said, slowly, knowing she might be digging her own grave, “Then why did you agree to go in the first place?”  
“Because I was sure I would be able to get out of it! Then everything could go back to normal.” Nanao dropped into her desk chair and started arranging the papers on her desk. It was already painfully tidy, but she seemed to think it still needed work. “Only a really awful person would say no under the circumstances, and I’m not an awful person.”  
She froze abruptly and slowly raised her head. “Am I an awful person, Rangiku?”  
“Of course not,” Rangiku said, quickly. “You’ve never done one bad thing in your entire life. You’re practically a saint. You--” Rangiku trailed off, seeing Nanao’s expression fall with every word she spoke.  
Nanao took a deep breath and carefully folded her hands in front of her. “Shuhei--Lieutenant Hisagi and I have been, I suppose you would say, hooking up, from time to time for a while now.”  
Rangiku’s eyes widened. This, she had not been expecting. She had wondered if maybe they’d gotten drunk and made out or something; it would explain the awkwardness that wasn’t already explained by Shuhei-kun’s usual awkwardness with women. “For how long?” she couldn’t help asking.  
Nanao’s eyes dropped to her hands. “Since you came back to work after Kinta was born.”  
“That’s years ago!” Rangiku very nearly shrieked.  
“It was a mistake, and I certainly never meant for it to continue,” Nanao said stiffly. “I never intentionally--it's only when I’ve had too much to drink--you did say once that anything you did while drunk doesn’t really count.”  
“If it happens once! Maybe! But I never tried to take back sex!”  
“Thank you, Rangiku. I wasn’t feeling enough like a slut.”  
“You’re not a slut,” Rangiku said. “So you like to get it on with Shuhei-kun; what’s wrong with that? I don’t know why everyone acts like it’s so awful when a woman happens to enjoy sex. It feels good, why wouldn’t you like it? And Shuhei-kun is built, isn’t he? And young and full of energy too!”  
“You’re not helping, Rangiku.”  
“Is it that you don’t like him as a person?” Rangiku asked, unable to stop smiling. “Is it just his body you want?”  
“Of course not,” Nanao finally raised her head. “I like Lieutenant Hisagi perfectly well. He’s a nice, responsible young man.”  
“But you don’t want to date him?” Rangiku asked.  
“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Nanao answered. “I simply don’t see what it’s going to accomplish. We have nothing to say to each other. We will have an awkward and uncomfortable dinner, which will only make it more obvious to us both how truly incompatible we are, and, after such an open and public display, Shuhei will no longer want to have anything to do with me. I don’t blame him; I’m quite certain it is for the best, but a part of me cannot help but be disappointed. Why couldn’t he leave well enough alone?”  
Rangiku frowned. Nanao sounded surprisingly distressed, not by the idea of going out with Hisagi, but by the idea that she would somehow change his feelings toward her. The idea that Ise Nanao, the reputed ice queen of the Eighth might have fallen for Hisagi Shuhei was somehow even more surprising than hearing that they’d been sleeping together, and that Nanao was afraid he might stop wanting her was really practically unbelievable. Did Nanao actually doubt herself?   
“Why do you think you’re incompatible?” Rangiku asked, finally.  
Nanao opened and closed her mouth twice before she managed to speak. “He’s--he has a tattoo on his face, Rangiku.”  
“So?” Rangiku said, wondering a little if it might just be Nanao’s inborn snobbery as a noble that had her believing that the two of them could not possibly work as a couple. So many of the noble-born seemed to really believe they were somehow different from those from Rukongai. It annoyed Rangiku to no end. “It’s obvious at least some part of you likes the bad boy look, and he’s not a real bad boy even if he is from Rukongai,” she answered, more than a little ticked that even Nanao seemed to think there was something wrong with Shuhei looking like he was from Rukongai. “Shuhei-kun is just about as polite, respectful, and hardworking as any man I’ve ever met. He can get a little bit crude when he’s drunk, but you seem to like him when he’s drunk.”  
“I’m more than a hundred years older than him!”  
With that one statement Rangiku realized she’d been reading Nanao wrong. It was herself and only herself the woman was doubting. Shuhei was young, really genuinely young; almost as young as she and Gin had been when Shiro-chan was born. Nanao really wasn’t at all old, but Shuhei must make her feel that way without even trying. “If he doesn’t mind why should you?”  
Nanao shook her head. “We have nothing in common.”  
“You are both painfully conscientious and hardworking lieutenants who are interested in nothing but the Gotei. You both could happily discuss division management every day for the rest of your lives,” Rangiku said. “Nanao, do you really think he's going to change his mind about you now? You just told Captain Kyoraku how you've known each other for years. He wants to take you out because he knows he likes you and he wants to spend more time with you. You don't have anything to worry about, I promise.”  
“And if after ten minutes of small talk over dinner he realizes how dull I really am, what am I supposed to do then?”  
Rangiku grinned hugely. “Offer to take him back to your room for dessert,” she said, before she burst out laughing, Nanao looked so embarrassed!  
The door opened while she was still laughing and Captain Kyoraku entered with a green kimono over his arm. He grinned at Rangiku and asked, “What’s this? Did Nanao-chan make a joke? I don’t think I’ve ever heard Nanao-chan say anything funny before.”  
He turned toward his still blushing lieutenant. “What did you say to poor Rangiku-chan? She’s practically hysterical.”  
“It’s none of your business,” Nanao answered icily.  
Kyoraku sighed. “It never is.”


	41. Chapter 41

Once again Gin was waiting for Aizen to finish writing a letter. This time he wasn’t alone. Tosen was sitting next to him, waiting with that perfect patience that Gin found to be one of Tosen’s more annoying traits, but then nearly everything about Tosen annoyed him, and vice versa, so while Tosen sat completely still on folded knees, Gin sat more comfortably and picked at the dirt under his fingernails.  
Aizen, when he finally turned to them, showed neither approval nor disapproval of either of them. He looked them over calmly before he spoke. “Ukitake’s interest in recent incidents was not particularly surprising or concerning; he is of the type to find the loss of nine division members upsetting and to search for answers. However, he should have been satisfied to accept it as another attack of the same type of hollow as destroyed Suzuki and his team, a possible Arrancar, and to leave it at that. You did speak to him about that incident, did you not, Gin?”  
Gin shrugged. “He seemed to think we’ve all been asking the wrong questions. He wasn’t at all interested in what it was but where it might have come from, which is an odd question, isn’t it? We all know the hollows come from Hueco Mundo. They only grow so strong after years of fighting and devouring each other, so where else would such powerful hollows be coming from? That’s what I said, and he asked me why now? If Arrancar have always existed in Hueco Mundo, why is it only now that they have begun causing problems for us here? It’s a fair question, but I’m afraid I didn’t have any answers for him.”  
Aizen nodded. “It’s not the first time that question has been asked, and so far we have easily prevented it from leading the more curious in any useful direction. However Ukitake’s inquiries may be more difficult to divert. Not only has he made the usual records requests from the various offices and archives, but he has also begun reading event logs from Research & Development,” he said. “His connection to Kurotsuchi is unfortunate. We have been able to keep a close eye on all official records and have adjusted them as necessary, however Kurotsuchi’s paranoia is such that for every file we locate he likely has dozens of copies, backups, and hidden files. There is no way to know what Ukitake may find, especially with his new wife’s assistance.”  
“Maybe it’s time Captain Ukitake’s retired,” Gin said, smiling pleasantly, and inwardly annoyed at the part of himself that flinched at the idea of ending the captain’s life--he had definitely allowed himself to become too soft. Ukitake was a nice guy, but everyone knew he was living on borrowed time anyway. “No one will be surprised if he fails to make it through another winter. They’ve been expecting it for years. I’ve picked up a nice little poison that in small enough doses does nothing but attack lung tissue. Even Unohana wouldn’t be able to distinguish the poison’s damage from the damage that’s already there.”  
Aizen frowned, looking thoughtful for a moment. “No,” he said finally. “We won’t end the gentle captain’s life. There are too many others who might feel called to finish his final work. Captain Kyoraku, in particular, is best kept drunk and indifferent to the goings on of the Gotei. Is it possible your new toy could be used to exacerbate Ukitake’s illness? He can hardly continue his little quest if he’s bedridden.”  
Gin cocked his head thoughtfully. “I suppose so, might be tricky, probably be kinder just to kill him.”  
Tosen turned his head slightly to look down his nose at Gin. “Kinder?” he said doubtfully.  
“Ran-chan says I need to work on showing empathy,” Gin said. “She thinks I will connect better with the boys if I sound like I care. Shiro’s getting to a difficult age--did that sound like caring?”  
“It’s when I remember that you are a father that I find it impossible to sleep at night,” Tosen answered.  
Gin smiled at him. “I don’t know why people treat that title as something sacred. It’s one of the easiest things to do, becoming a father; all it requires is a willing female. Quite a bit of fun, actually; you might give it a try sometime. We could have a mini-Tosen or two running around Seireitei, and wouldn’t you enjoy showing me what a father should be?”  
Tosen only looked more disgusted. “I have no interest in anything that does not further the cause of justice.”  
“Never?” Gin said. “And no sympathy for those who do. You must be terribly disappointed with your lieutenant at the moment. He seems to have succumbed to the temptations of the flesh with Kyoraku's sexy little librarian.”  
Tosen’s expression darkened further. “Lieutenant Ise is a woman of irreproachable character. That a woman so highly respected by all of Seireitei should favor my lieutenant speaks highly of his character as well. Were he a man of more questionable character he might have chosen a woman by her physical attributes rather than by her intellect and integrity.”  
Gin laughed at that. “Intellect and integrity; I’m sure that’s what Hisagi was appreciating when he was taking her against that old willow in the garden by the Eighth.”  
“Gin-kun,” Aizen spoke in a tone of gentle rebuke. “Perhaps we might return to the topic at hand? How do you intend to administer this new treatment, shall we say, to Captain Ukitake?”  
“I’m torn,” Gin admitted. “Adding it to his medication would be simple and direct, but it occurred to me I might add it to one of Nemu’s lotions or soaps, as its one of a family of toxins she’s immune to, and she could once again be the vehicle through which his life is threatened, seems almost poetic, doesn’t it? On a more practical note, it might also add more variation to his symptoms, depending on how much time they spend in close proximity.” Here he glanced at Tosen again, but the too boring captain did not respond, yet another wasted effort. “But there is a slight chance she might detect it, and that would spoil everything.”  
Aizen frowned. “How likely is that?”  
“I’ve never been able to get into Kurotsuchi’s files on Nemu. I can’t hack them as they’re only in hardcopy, and last time I had a friend try the poor man ended up one of Kurotsuchi’s failures in his flesh regrowth experiments, very unpleasant, died with hands growing out of all sorts of places you really don’t want hands. That was before R&D had any outside oversight, and Kurotsuchi was always disposing of my friends when he noticed them. These days he has to settle for demoting or transferring them. I think that’s why he’s been so cranky.”  
“And what about his lieutenant?”  
“Nemu’s senses are all heightened, however I have never seen or heard of her identifying trace substances without the use of computer assistance so I think it’s safe to assume that she would be no more likely than anyone else to notice a small addition to her lotion.”  
“Then that is what you will do,” Aizen said. “Variation in his symptoms will make it appear to be a natural downturn in his health.”  
Gin smiled. He’d known Aizen would like the idea of poisoning Ukitake through Nemu. What would appeal to him most was the part Gin had left unsaid, that Nemu, herself, might notice that her presence had a negative effect on her husband’s health. For Aizen, the distress it could cause was worth the possibility of eventual discovery. And the poison was one of her father’s many creations, so if she did discover it, the discovery itself would only lead to more problems with the mad scientist, more ruined trust and more distraction from the real danger threatening Soul Society.  
It really was a beautiful plan, and Gin refused to feel bad about the pain and suffering Ukitake would have to endure because of it. He had to know his inquiries could draw attention and lead to any number of unpleasant consequences. Gin had tried to make it clear to Kaien that there was nothing anyone else could do to stop Aizen. It wasn’t his fault if they didn’t believe him.  
“And if Captain Ukitake sends his lieutenant to continue his investigation?” Tosen asked.  
Aizen smiled. “I have noticed the effectiveness of the entire Thirteenth Division tends to revolve around its captain’s health. Shiba-kun will have more than enough to do, simply running his division, especially since her run-in with our hollow has frightened his wife out of the Gotei and left him without a Third Seat. If he somehow finds the time to spend looking for answers, we will have to engineer another distraction for him. I am sure, with the responsibility for the entire Shiba family on his shoulders, that will be a simple enough matter. No, Shiba Kaien is now more of a weakness than a strength for his captain,” Aizen said. “It is as if fate itself is on our side. Captain Ukitake is the first person in a position to discover our work who has begun to look in the right places, but his health is poor, and his allies are distracted. Even your lieutenant’s affair with Ise-san is happening at just the right moment to take Kyoraku’s watchful eyes and constant assistance away from his friend. Our work may continue without interruption.”


	42. Chapter 42

“I’d like to welcome Hinamori Momo, the newest lieutenant in the Gotei 13,” Yachiru announced loudly as she led said lieutenant to the gathering of lieutenants. They had rented a room at a nicer restaurant than most of them could ever have afforded to visit otherwise and were charging both dinner and drinks to the Gotei.   
It had taken a great deal of effort on the part of multiple members, mostly begging and pleading from Rangiku and Yachiru, some interesting accounting from Nanao, and negotiating with said restaurant owner by Kaien, who may have used his position as head of the Shiba family to get them into such a high-class venue, to bring about the first celebration of the lieutenants of the Gotei in more than a century.  
Rumors were the last time the Gotei’s lieutenants had put on a work party a restaurant had burned to the ground, a couple lieutenants had ended up in Division Four, and someone had died. Everyone was pretty sure it wasn’t true, but it had taken a lot of begging to get permission for the party.  
Rangiku was probably the happiest person there. She had managed to escape her entire family for once and was very much enjoying making jokes she would never have spoken in Toshiro’s presence and watching the way both Nanao and Hisagi kept turning a brighter shade of scarlet. She didn’t even feel slightly sorry for them as they had somehow managed to deceive most of the Gotei into thinking that their relationship was of the most honorable and appropriate variety--which wasn’t at all fair because back before she’d been with Gin all she had to do was let a man buy her a drink and everyone in the Gotei thought she was sleeping with him.  
It didn’t take long for Nemu to outdo Rangiku, however, and without even trying. She was honestly only attempting to join the conversation as she understood it, when she looked across the table to Nanao and asked, “Lieutenant Ise, are you using kido to prevent conception? I know you have long desired a child of your own, and I wondered if you had fixed on Lieutenant Hisagi as an acceptable father. I looked up his medical records in case you were considering him and wanted to assure you that he has no issues of concern and his genetic profile would be complementary to your own.”  
Hisagi, with his usual skill, coughed an entire mouthful of sake all over Kira and spilled the entire remainder of his glass all over himself.  
Nanao froze completely. She seemed entirely unable to move at all, and most of the eyes at the table had been turned toward the pair. Only Yachiru, working on her third bowl of peach sorbet, seemed entirely indifferent.  
“Nemu-chan,” Rangiku said as gently as she could manage, fighting back the urge to burst out laughing. “Remember what we’ve told you about inappropriate topics of conversation?”  
“Oh?” It was Nemu’s turn to look embarrassed. “But Shiro-chan and I have had several discussions about the wisdom of conceiving a child, and I am sure he would never bring up anything inappropriate.”  
Rangiku blinked at her. “You have no idea how weird it is to hear you call Captain Ukitake ‘Shiro-chan’.”  
Nemu, in return, looked even more confused. “But it is his name, is it not? Shiro is the correct shortened form of Jushiro, and it must be acceptable for his wife to use ‘chan’ as a term of endearment as the entirety of his family uses it, whether as nii-chan or ji-chan—“  
“I didn’t say you were wrong,” Rangiku interrupted. “I just can’t help thinking of my Shiro-chan. It’s hard to remember you have one too; I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone else call Captain Ukitake by his first name—but I absolutely agree that you must add ‘chan’. It suits him.”  
“Hey, Hisagi, does Ise-san call you Shu-chan when you two are alone together?” Omaeda demanded.  
He and Iba both started chuckling at the thought, but Nanao’s icy gaze hit them, and they shut up abruptly.  
“At least she’s willing to be alone with him, Fatty-face,” Yachiru cut in while Hisagi was still scrambling for an answer. “Bet there’s never been a woman who’d want to be alone with you, and I bet the only one who ever called you ‘chan’ was your mom.”  
Omaeda sputtered in anger and frustration, but even he knew better than to try to argue with the lieutenant from the Eleventh. She had an uncanny instinct for the deepest burns and she never pulled her punches. It was one of the most important rules of lieutenants meetings, never annoy Lieutenant Kusajishi.  
“Oh, there has to be someone,” Rangiku said lightly, “Who cares more about money and position than personality or, you know, looks—Kaien, you know bunches of nobles, don’t you? Surely you could find Omaeda, here, a woman.”  
Kaien raised his head from a pile of notebooks Nemu had brought him from her division. “What’s that, Rangiku?” he asked.  
“You’re not supposed to be working tonight!” Rangiku declared. She had already stolen a book from Nemu, who had recently become obsessed with studying her husband’s illness, and she wasn’t about to let Kaien waste the evening either. Something had been up with Ukitake’s people since the attack that led to Miyako’s resignation, but even they could take an occasional break. “Tonight is about having fun!”  
“Then can I go home?” Kaien asked, smiling at her.  
“Now what sort of example would that be for our new, young members?” Rangiku demanded. “You are supposed to be showing them how much we all enjoy being together, just like a family, because we are a family, so don’t just sit there and whine about wanting to go home.”  
“Why not? It’s what I do at my sister’s,” Kaien answered.  
Rangiku shook her head. “I’ve met your sister; all you have to do is add a little sake, and she’s a lot of fun--same as here.” With that Rangiku refilled his cup and pushed it closer to him. “Fun, not work, remember?”  
Kaien looked back at her for a long moment, studying her open smile and bright, happy eyes. Miyako had insisted Rangiku had no idea what Gin was involved in, and it was easy to believe, watching her laugh and drink so freely, but who was to say she wasn’t an even better actor than her husband. The entire situation was impossible. “Ok, Rangiku,” he said, raising his cup in salute. “You win. No work tonight.”  
Everyone raised their cups and drank to that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Stepping through the gate, Shiba Kaien sighed. Captain Ichimaru was standing directly across the street not even managing to look the slightest bit inconspicuous as he enjoyed an icecream cone.  
Gin waved pleasantly when he saw Kaien and waited for the lieutenant to join him.  
“I think you’ve used up your favors,” Kaien said as he reached Gin.  
“The Tenth still needs a captain,” Gin answered pleasantly.  
“And I’m still not interested,” Kaien said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to get to work.”  
“The commute must be annoying,” Gin said. “Shiba estate, Division Thirteen, Shiba estate, Division Thirteen: I know Kuchiki does it, but I think one of his great joys in life is being irritated. The Tenth is half the distance and has an exceptional captain’s residence. Miyako would probably find it quite comfortable.”  
“Miyako is comfortable here,” Kaien said firmly.  
“Don’t be silly; we all know she hates it. Ran’s always going on about how unhappy poor Miya-chan is. I understand wanting to protect your wife, but forcing her out of the Gotei entirely seems a bit unfair. If you were to make captain the poor thing would at least be able to see her friends everyday, even if she no longer works with them.”  
Kaien cringed at the suggestion that Miyako was unhappy. “Has anyone ever told you to mind your own business, Captain?”  
Gin grinned. “Of course they have. I just never listen.”  
Kaien took a step closer and lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “Listen, I don’t like you, and I don’t trust you. I am not going to play any of your games or do anything for you. If you want your wife protected I suggest you do it yourself, because there is no one who is going to become captain of the Tenth just to do it for you.”  
Gin’s eyes widened for just a moment. Then he smiled, fox-like once more. “You’re right,” he said, pleasantly. “You still have your own to worry about, after all.”  
“Is that a threat?” Kaien demanded, still managing to keep his voice low.  
Gin’s smile grew. “It’s whatever you imagine it to be, Shiba-kun,” he answered. Then he stepped away and waved before he walked away.


	43. Chapter 43

Toshiro, with a practice sword in his hand, was easily blocking every one of Yachiru’s blows, and it was really beginning to be obvious that it was ticking her off. He was a child, and she was a lieutenant. She’d said as much before they’d started the bout; she had said it was unfair to make poor Snowflake even try to take her on. Hinamori insisted she give Toshiro a chance because Yachiru was literally the only shinigami he could spar with who was close to his size, and he obviously needed to learn how to deal with someone who wasn't bigger than him.  
Yachiru had been skeptical, but Ikkaku had asked her if she was scared and that had been the end of the discussion.  
After a few minutes it was becoming obvious Yachiru needed the same practice.  
Ikkaku and Renji were taking turns taunting both Yachiru and Toshiro whenever the opportunity presented itself, but Hinamori was watching with focused intensity. She wasn't much good with a sword herself; she tended to depend on kido, but her few bouts with Toshiro had led her to suspect he might be better than he’d let on. Now she was sure of it. Yachiru had been trained by the Kenpachi, after all. She really should have no trouble flattening a kid, even if he’d been allowed to practice with his father's men on occasion.  
“Captain Ichimaru must make him train every day,” she said softly.  
“Looks like,” Ikkaku agreed, startling Hinamori. She hadn't realized she’d spoken aloud.   
Ikkaku turned to look down at the mousy little lieutenant. He didn't usually bother to notice her at all, but the Ichimaru kid seemed interesting. “What's his zanpakuto?” he asked.  
“He doesn't have one,” Hinamori said, like it should be obvious.  
Ikkaku smiled. “The hell he doesn’t.”  
At that moment Toshiro knocked the practice blade from Yachiru’s hand and swept his up to her throat.  
The pink haired girl shrieked, “Fine! Fine, Snowflake! You win!”   
She stepped back and picked up her weapon as he lowered his. Then she turned back, shrieking, “Time for round two!!!”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Ayasegawa Yumichika appeared nearly an hour later with a tray with tea and snacks. He surveyed the scene with some curiosity. Yachiru and Toshiro were swinging furiously, attacking, dodging, and countering so quickly they were little more than a blur as they moved back and forth across the practice ground. A bit of a crowd had gathered to watch. Members of the Eleventh stood at the edges of the buildings and just inside doorways, watching from a safe distance. Ikkaku sat near Renji and Hinamori on the edge of one porch, his eyes never leaving the white-haired boy for an instant, but Renji and Hinamori both looked like they’d seen more than enough and were ready for the whole thing to be over.  
Yumichika glanced at the fighting pair for a second longer before he turned to join Ikkaku and the others on the porch.  
“What’s the score?” he asked as he knelt gracefully and set down the tray.  
“Toshiro’s beaten the lieutenant five times, but she won’t give in,” Renji answered. Ikkaku did not so much as acknowledge Yumichika’s arrival.  
“He’s better than I thought he’d be,” Hinamori said, softly.  
Yumichika nodded as he poured himself a cup of tea. “You shouldn’t be surprised. Both of his parents are pretty deadly with their zanpakuto, and Captain Ichimaru’s the type who pushes all his men till they break--you don’t think he’d be any easier on his own son, do you?”  
The girl frowned and glanced back at her young friend. Toshiro was always very serious and hardworking, but he’d never said anything to make her think his father was pushing him at all. In fact, it always seemed to her that his parents were a bit negligent when it came to his training and education. Gin seemed completely uninterested in anything related to Toshiro, and Rangiku seemed to adore her son, but she also seemed to expect him to raise himself; at least that was the impression Hinamori had gotten from Toshiro. For the first time she wondered if there might be some things he had purposefully kept from her.  
“I guess not,” she said finally.  
Yumichika smiled. “You’re not the only one who’s missed it,” he said to make her feel a little better. “Toshiro hides his strength like his father does, and people would underestimate him anyway because he’s small.”  
He turned away abruptly and shouted at the dueling pair. “Lieutenant, I’ve brought your morning snack, but if you don’t want--”  
The girl appeared beside him in a pink flash.  
She was coated in dust and sweat and breathing heavily, but she didn’t pause for even a second before grabbing a sweet bean cake and shoving it into her mouth.  
Yumichika made a face as he watched her. “Don’t you think you might want to at least wash your hands?”  
“Silly Yu-yu,” Yachiru said, after swallowing and before shoving in the next cake. “My hands will get dirty from the rice flour anyway.”  
Toshiro reached the porch then and dropped down onto his back on the smooth wood. “How can you eat after that?” he asked, as he closed his eyes and stretched out his arms and legs. He drew in a deep breath, and it was clear he was going to be asleep very soon.  
“Yachiru a challenge for you?” Ikkaku asked.  
“I guess,” Toshiro answered, without opening his eyes. “She’s just a lieutenant, but I guess there’s a reason they call you guys the toughest in the Gotei.”  
Yachiru wanted to argue with the ‘just a lieutenant’ comment, but she would have had to stop eating so she let it go.  
“You can join any time you want, kid,” Ikkaku told him.  
Toshiro smiled, but this time he didn’t answer.  
Yumichika smiled too, but it was a different sort of a smile. “His mom hears you told him that, and she’s going to flay you alive. You know how she feels about people recruiting her son.”  
“Rangiku’s all talk,” Ikkaku scoffed, but he gave the boy a wary glance.  
“Hinamori-san, I was going to offer you a snack, but--” Yumichika frowned down at Yachiru who had already finished all the available food. “Perhaps you’d like some tea?”  
“Oh, yes, thank you,” she said, smiling shyly at the Eleventh Division Fifth Seat. She did not know Ikkaku or Yumichika very well at all, but they seemed to be friends with both Renji and Toshiro so she was doing her best to be friendly.  
“I’ll have some,” Renji said, turning to Yumichika.  
“The kitchen’s over there,” Yumichika said, gesturing lightly. “I didn’t bring you a cup.”  
“What about that one?” Renji demanded pointing at an empty cup, as Yumichika handed each of the others a steaming cup of green tea.  
“It’s for Shiro-chan, when he wakes up,” Yumichika answered. Then he turned to Hinamori. “You know Lieutenant Ise fairly well, don’t you?” he asked.  
“I suppose so,” Hinamori answered. “I’ve been helping out in the Women’s Shinigami Association, and she encouraged me to join the Gotei Festival Committee. It’s a lot more work than I expected.”  
“Maybe you can tell me then, because this idiot,” Yumichika said, nodding toward Renji, “Has no idea despite going out for drinks with Hisagi at least once a week, are they or are they not engaged?”  
“I told you she said yes, but her family hates him,” Renji protested. “Last night he passed out still complaining about snobby aristocrats threatening to murder him. What more do you want?”  
“I would like to know if Lieutenant Ise is really going to defy her family. It would be completely out of character for her to do so, and I wondered if the reason why might be the same reason her family is threatening to murder poor Hisagi.”  
Hinamori’s eyes widened. “You don’t think she could be--I mean, you don’t think they have to get married, do you?”  
Ikkaku let out a laugh. “Rangiku could screw up a kido any day, but Ise, there’s no way. She’s not getting knocked up till she wants to.”  
“True,” Yumichika admitted. “But it is such a rush. They’ve only been dating a few months, and they’re already talking about marriage? It’s not like Lieutenant Ise to rush into anything.”  
The conversation faded as two phrases repeated themselves over and over in Toshiro’s head: They have to get married, Rangiku could screw up a kido any day. It wasn’t exactly the first time he’d heard either, but he’d never connected them before, and he’d never once thought about what they meant, after all they involved his parents and sex and that was two topics he really wished didn’t share a universe. But now, hearing the others talk, he realized what he should probably have known for a long time. His parents had had to get married because his mother had screwed up a kido. He, himself, was the mistake that had forced them to marry. They might not even have wanted to get married, and they probably had not wanted him.  
Kinta had been wanted, planned for, expected. He remembered his mom saying, ‘this time’ over and over again, and never quite realizing what she meant by that. She’d been so happy and excited.  
She probably hadn’t felt that way when he was coming. For the first time he actually bothered to do the math, subtracting his age from hers, and a chill ran down his spine. She’d been Renji’s age! His parents had practically been children. No wonder they’d been so completely useless half the time.  
Of course they shouldn’t have been sleeping together in the first place. He sighed inwardly at that thought. That was his parents, alright; stupid, irresponsible, and always just looking for some fun. They had never once thought about what could happen. He was nothing but a mistake, a huge, life-altering mistake, that they’d been stuck with whether they wanted him or not.  
Toshiro hopped up abruptly and without a word to anyone he shunpoed away from the Eleventh.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

It didn’t take long for Gin to notice Toshiro on the windowsill. He considered ignoring him, but in the end Toshiro seemed less boring than his paperwork.  
“Need something, Shiro?” he asked, without turning from his desk.  
“I was a mistake,” Toshiro said. He’d considered talking to his mom about it, but in the end decided there was too high a chance of tears. He knew she’d take his questions as meaning he felt unwanted, and that definitely wasn’t the case; honestly, he really thought she might be overdoing the doting mother thing a bit. But maybe she was trying to make up for the fact that he really wasn’t wanted—by his father.  
Gin smiled as he turned to face the boy. “Was wondering if you’d ever figure that out,” he said. “Did you finally notice the dates or did you get into the wedding photos? Your mother hates those; she was the size of a small elephant.”  
“Yumichika asked Hinamori if Ise-san and Hisagi-san had to get married and Ikkaku said Ise-san would never screw up a kido like Mom had.”  
Gin’s smile grew larger. “She was terrible with kido, couldn’t stand all the practice, thought it was boring as hell. That’s one good thing you did; you taught your mother some patience.”  
Toshiro frowned back at him. “You didn’t want to marry her,” he accused.  
Gin’s smile remained, fake and fox-like as ever. “Course I did. When have I ever done anything I didn’t want to?”  
Toshiro raised an eyebrow. “Mom makes you do stuff all the time,” he pointed out.  
“Sure she does,” Gin agreed, his smile not changing in the slightest.  
There was no point in arguing. He could doubt the sincerity of his father’s feelings for his mother all he wanted. His father would never admit anything, but as far as he, himself, was concerned... “So it was just me you didn’t want?”  
“Pretty much,” Gin agreed.  
“I guess I ruined everything, huh?”   
“Oh, definitely.”  
Toshiro wondered why it made him feel guilty. He wasn’t the one who’d screwed up. If anything, he should be mad at them. Who wanted to be the unwanted child of a couple of stupid kids? But he did feel bad; he’d always been in the way, keeping them from the lives they wanted. Who knows what his mother could have done if he hadn’t been there holding her back, and his father had never been quiet about all the time and energy he was wasting on Toshiro.  
Gin watched the thoughts flash across Toshiro’s face, so easy to read. The boy really was too responsible. “You know, Shiro, you’re not a bad kid. You didn’t ruin your mother’s career on purpose, and you do a lot for her. These days I don’t think she could get along without you.”  
Toshiro smiled wryly. “Yeah, who’d make sure she gets home safely when she’s falling down drunk?”  
“Exactly. You keep an eye on her. She’s lucky to have you. I doubt there are many mothers out there with young sons training bankai just to keep their mothers safe.”  
Toshiro cringed slightly. “You know about that?”  
“Don’t know why you’ve been trying to keep it from me. If we work together we can have you at captain level in no time. You won’t need the Academy at all. You can take the captain’s exam as soon as you’re ready to join the Gotei. You could become your mother’s captain; wouldn’t that be funny?”  
Toshiro’s eyes widened. He had never really thought that far ahead. He’d mostly just wanted to prove he could do anything his father could and he didn’t even need his help to manage it. But the Tenth was the only open division. If he could make captain it would be in the Tenth. His mother would be his lieutenant. That sounded bad.  
“You would keep a better eye on her than most of the idiots we’ve got coming up,” Gin said. “What do you think, Shiro? Want to be a captain?”  
Toshiro nodded slowly. He would become a captain, and he would protect his mother, even if that was the only value his father ever thought he had.


	44. Chapter 44

Rangiku arrived nearly two hours late since Gin had once again vanished. She’d put Kinta to bed, but Toshiro had managed to convince her to go out after his brother was asleep. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t hide from Shiro how much it bothered her when Gin took off, and he knew from experience that the best thing she could do was get out of the house and have some fun. Whether she stayed or went she was going to drink herself sick, but to him at least it sounded better for her to get drunk hanging out and laughing with friends than alone in a dark room, all depressed and feeling sorry for herself.  
So here she was at the sakeya, two hours after Kira had told her they were getting together, finally approaching a table full of drunk friends.  
It was amusing to see them from the outside for once, watching how they interacted. Kira, who sadly could not hold his liquor at all, was sharing with Hinamori a depressing story about his dead mother. For some reason, when drunk, he always shared depressing stories about his deceased parents; Rangiku thought it an unfortunate character flaw and did her best not to sit next to him when sake was available.  
Nemu was conspicuously absent. Rangiku, Miyako, and even Nanao had put in a lot of effort over the past few years to get the girl a social life, but since her marriage they were seeing less and less of her. Captain Ukitake’s worsening health was probably the cause, but that thought only made Rangiku feel guilty. She had not tried to drag Nemu out into the world just so she could fall in love and watch the only person she’d ever loved die slowly and miserably.  
Rangiku forced that thought from her head, turning quickly to the men of the Eleventh for a distraction. Renji and Ikkaku were going back and forth about something, and they were both drunk enough that they probably had no hope of ever understanding each other.  
“No, no, no, no,” Ikkaku said, shaking his head slowly. “Explain it again. Why is Captain Tosen angry with Hisagi?”  
“Seems to me that Captain Tosen should be pleased his lieutenant has made such an impressive match,” Yumichika said coolly; alcohol never appeared to affect him at all no matter how much he drank. “I doubt there’s a more commendable woman in the entire Gotei and that’s without even considering her lineage.”  
Renji waved his hands as though he could push away their words. “No, he’s not--he’s disappointed. Guess he doesn’t like the sex or something. He told Hisagi-san this whole marriage thing’s gotten out of hand and he needed to rethink his priorities if he wanted to remain lieutenant of the Ninth--”  
“I thought you said it was because Hisagi wanted to take Captain Kyoraku’s offer to adopt him into the family,” Ikkaku said. “I mean if he’s just jealous Hisagi’s getting laid he should get over it or get his own woman--got no business kicking Hisagi out over that.”  
“Wait, what?” Rangiku demanded, forcing her way in beside Yumichika. “Shuhei-kun is going to become a Kyoraku? Since when?”  
“He hasn’t decided what to do,” Renji answered. “He just left for a few days in Rukongai. You should have been here earlier; Lieutenant Ise was looking for you, but she got mad and left.”  
“She got mad at you because you kept telling her how Hisagi used to be fun, but she’d turned him into an angsting mass of nerves who spent all his time running errands for her or crying about her,” Yumichika said.  
“I didn’t say that!” Renji protested.  
“Not in so many words,” Yumichika admitted. “But she left when you wouldn’t stop talking about how she had him running back and forth across Seireitei all day yesterday chasing down Reimbursement Reports from all over the Gotei.”  
“It was hilarious! Half the Gotei was in hiding by the afternoon!” Renji said.  
Rangiku had to agree. If there was anything every shinigami hated it was filing Reimbursement reports. Half the Gotei needed to be reimbursed for one purchase or another at least monthly, and nearly everyone tried to get away with not filing the paperwork for it. In the Tenth, the officer in charge of petty cash would hand out small amounts with nothing more than a verbal request he’d jot down when he got the time. The bureaucracy of the Gotei wanted a bit more information, and Nanao had spent years nagging people to do their paperwork properly. Yesterday had been brilliant. She’d given Hisagi a list of serial offenders and asked him to pick up the reports for her, giving him the impression that they were of vital importance and absolutely had to be brought in that day.  
Lieutenant Hisagi was not the most intimidating or forceful person who’d ever tried to collect the reports, but he had an impressive amount of determination. Rangiku had watched with growing amusement as Hisagi had simply stood over the Tenth Division officer for an hour after answering, “I'll wait,” when the man had told him he couldn't hand over the reports because they weren’t done. The officer had finally given in and filled out the forms just to get him to leave. She’d also heard Hisagi had had to use kido to track down the Twelfth Division’s officer in charge of the reports because she had hidden herself in the basement behind a barrier when she’d heard he was coming. All in all it was a successful move; Nanao had saved herself weeks of stress and Hisagi had only wasted a single day. Seemed brilliant to Rangiku, but apparently to Renji it was proof Hisagi was whipped.  
“I wish Gin would help me with work sometimes,” Rangiku said wistfully. “The closest he ever gets is helping me train and by helping me train I mean beating the shit out of me on an almost daily basis.”  
“He beats the shit out of you?” Ikkaku demanded, and Rangiku realized she’d phrased that completely wrong because everyone at the table was suddenly looking at her and looking very serious.  
Rangiku laughed forcefully. “You know what I mean. You’ve tried to spar with a captain. They think they’re going easy on you and you still get knocked halfway across the room. Honestly, I’m lucky he will because everyone else treats me like a freaking china doll--but is Captain Kyoraku seriously considering adopting Hisagi into his family? Why would he do that?”  
“Because Lieutenant Ise wants Hisagi and her family wants a nobleman,” Yumichika answered before anyone could question her further about fighting with Gin. He had talked to her about it before and was satisfied Gin wasn’t hurting her. He was happy to help her redirect the conversation because nothing put Rangiku in a worse mood than suggesting her husband was mistreating her. Call him a bastard, a pig, even a psycho and she wouldn’t bat an eye but imply that he might purposefully hurt her in any way and that was too far. “One gets the feeling Captain Kyoraku would do anything for his lieutenant.”  
“Nanao doesn’t know how spoiled she is,” Rangiku agreed. “My captain never did a thing for me--when I had a captain.”  
“I seem to recall him throwing you a wedding,” Yumichika said.  
“Yeah, well, that’s a long way from adopting your fiancé into his family,” Rangiku said, “Me and Gin are always going to be Rukongai trash, but Hisagi’s moving up in the world.”  
She frowned at that thought. “Tosen’s from Rukongai too,” she said. “You don’t think he thinks Hisagi sold out, do you? Tosen’s all about truth and justice and honor and whatever. He probably wouldn’t think there was anything worse than marrying a woman just to move up in the world.”  
“That’s it!” Renji said, suddenly. “That’s gotta be what Hisagi-san was talking about. He was going on about being true to himself and shit. I don’t know what he’s talking about half the time. He sounds just like Captain Tosen. Don’t know how the captain could ever think he’d sell out. They’re both practically saints.”  
“Until he started sleeping with Ise--that’s a bit off the ideals of shinigami perfection,” Ikkaku had to point out. “The hell is with that anyway? Who decided shinigami were above sex? No one in Rukongai went around saying, ‘we’re all souls now. We should forget the desires of the flesh.’ Soul Society would be effing boring if we all became a bunch of monks--have to give up fighting and drinking too, if you wanna be properly holy. Then what the hell would we do with all these centuries?”  
“Fortunately there will always be hollows to kill,” Yumichika said. “And even Captain Tosen does not object to killing in the name of justice. However I do believe he discourages his men from overindulging in alcohol. I prefer Captain Zaraki’s approach.”  
“What’s that?” Rangiku asked.  
“Do whatever the hell you want as long as you keep getting stronger,” Renji told her.  
Rangiku smiled. “I like that; nice and to the point. I could adopt it for the Tenth, but I’d have to add something about everyone else doing all the paperwork.”  
“You just need a Yumichika. He handles all that no problem,” Ikkaku told her.  
“No problem?” Yumichika demanded. “I work hours every single day trying to keep the Division up to date and organized. I don’t mind doing it, but it would be nice if every once in a while someone acknowledged my contribution.”  
“Well, that’s not going to happen,” Ikkaku answered.  
“Yeah,” Renji had to agree. “The captain wouldn’t care if you never turned in another report. And the lieutenant’s always turning them into paper airplanes anyway.”  
Yumichika sighed and carefully poured himself another cup of sake. “And this is why I drink,” he said.  
“Better than my reason,” Rangiku answered, sighing too.  
“The hell with you two,” Ikkaku said. “I drink ‘cause it’s fun!”  
Rangiku smiled. “That too.” She raised her cup, and said, “To drinking till I throw up or pass out.”


	45. Chapter 45

On a tall building overlooking Urahara Shoten, Gin stood cloaked and silent, watching the sliding door open and a column of warm light cut across the dusty yard. A tall figure in a round hat staggered out drunkenly followed by a slender woman, in the most shapeless possible shihakusho, arm in arm with a bare-armed and muscular young man, who seemed to be almost as drunk as the older man and was clearly using the woman to keep his balance. They all turned back toward the door and waved cheerfully at their hosts, hidden from Gin’s view by the angle of the roof.  
He could almost hear their words; they certainly sounded friendly, happy, and inconsequential. The visit, from the moment of the captain and lieutenants’ arrival, appeared to be nothing more than a social call.  
Tosen appeared, suddenly, on Gin’s left. “What do you think?” he asked, and as usual there was both suspicion and hostility in his tone.  
“He’s your lieutenant,” Gin said, smiling cheerfully at the irony. He’d never seen Tosen so unhappy as he’d been over the last month. He’d chosen his lieutenant so carefully, determined to find an honest and dedicated young man, a man of unimpeachable character and absolute loyalty, and his perfect lieutenant had gone and fallen in love. And everything that had made him Tosen’s choice guaranteed that he would follow Nanao and her captain to the very end, even if this was what Aizen suspected, an investigation into the truth of the hollow experiments of one hundred years ago and his own captain would be implicated in the wrongdoing. Hisagi Shuhei, soon to be Kyoraku, would give his life without hesitation to uphold the laws of the Gotei. “You tell me.”  
“He believed Kyoraku wanted him to try various human drinks. It is Kyoraku’s idea of welcoming him into the family.”  
“But only a week after Shiba suddenly makes an inspection of the Thirteenth’s shinigami based in the World of the Living? Seems like quite a coincidence,” Gin answered. He loved this. Tosen had never been as detached as he claimed, and he was very fond of his lieutenant. He did not want to see the boy as a threat, so without realizing it he was downplaying the possibility. Aizen would probably realize that, but when Gin agreed with Tosen that they had nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t be suspicious. It really was perfect.  
“Shiba visited with Urahara for less than an hour,” Tosen said. “His visit could have been to restock supplies, and I believe he picked up a package for your wife as well. There’s no reason to believe Ukitake or anyone else has connected the Arrancar to the hollowfication experiments.”  
Gin frowned. No, there really wasn’t, except that he had connected the dots for them. He really was annoyed with the whole lot of them, visiting one after another; it really would be just what they deserved if Aizen decided to eliminate them. They wouldn’t get any warning from him, that was for sure. He’d spent too much luck on them already.  
Hisagi tripped and nearly took down Nanao with him as he stumbled, and they could hear Kyoraku laughing at the couple from where they stood.  
“They are very drunk; how many secret meetings do you think end with everyone getting drunk?” Gin asked.  
“This is a waste of time,” Tosen declared and vanished.  
Gin followed him a second later.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Lieutenant Ise Nanao was very aware of the stares as she entered Division Ten. She’d been getting them all morning, even at her own division where it seemed to her like the whole thing should be old news by now. She’d even decided not to change her name so as not to attract attention to her newly married state. She’d also fought tooth and nail to keep her captain from making a big deal out of things within the Gotei, no parties, no announcements; she'd gone into a long and detailed list of things he was not to do--she had not expected him to commission the construction of a home for her and her husband, now legally his son, within the Eighth Division.  
She should have known they couldn’t keep it quiet. Shinigami usually didn’t give much of a damn what the noble houses were doing, but with a captain and two lieutenants involved they were bound to start paying attention. And what a mess it had all been! They should have eloped like Nemu and Captain Ukitake; his family might have been just as upset as hers--after all, what exactly was Nemu?--but there wasn’t a lot they could do after the fact. Instead her family had harassed and threatened Shuhei and very nearly destroyed his career with their absurd complaints to his captain and rumors they’d tried to spread about him. It had been awful, and feeling all the eyes on her, Nanao was feeling fairly certain the awful wasn’t anywhere near done.  
She straightened her back and held her head just a bit higher as she continued to the captain’s office. Surely they couldn’t make some new awful rumor out of her going to speak to Rangiku.  
She found Rangiku sitting at her desk with a monstrous stack of paperwork, slowly filling out one page at a time. Her younger son was sitting on the captain’s desk with a box of markers and a pair of safety scissors from the World of the Living. He also had a pile that looked like division paperwork which he was currently turning into rainbow-colored confetti while he sang a nonsense song about raining paper.  
Nanao paused in the doorway for a moment. The contrast between the golden-haired Kinta cheerfully destroying a pile of paper and the memory of his brother at much the same age sitting in a corner carefully practicing hiragana was striking. There really was no way of knowing what sort of child you might end up with.  
She took a deep breath and pulled the door shut behind her, locking it carefully. The last thing she needed was an interruption.  
“Auntie Nanao!” Kinta shrieked joyfully, launching himself from the desktop and barely hitting the ground before he was leaping up into her arms.  
Rangiku raised her head and smiled. “Hey, Nanao,” she said. “Good to have you back. Did you have a nice honeymoon?”  
Nanao gave Kinta a hug. He was a snugly child even if he was impossible. “Probably the worst in the history of Soul Society,” Nanao answered, smiling pitifully. “We should never have gone to the main house. At least we wouldn’t have had to listen to them tell us how offended they were.”  
Rangiku smiled back. “I guess there were a few benefits to being an orphan from Rukongai,” she said.  
Nanao groaned. “There is that. At least he doesn’t have a family to disapprove too. I don’t think I could take it. I don’t know how Shuhei did. Nearly every one of my male relatives threatened him at one point or another, and people kept complaining about the smell--the smell! Shuhei does not smell!”  
“I know. They do it to all of us,” Rangiku agreed when it looked like Nanao was about to lose it completely. “But it’s over now, right? Over and done, and you can just avoid them for a decade or two until they get over it.”  
Nanao sighed. “As if they’ll ever leave us alone,” she said softly. She set Kinta back down on the captain’s desk and instructed him to color the next paper purple before she sat down on the couch. “The captain says he’ll take care of them, but I don’t see what he can do. They’re all going to be after me to resign and move to one of the family homes. I don’t know how Miyako can stand it; I’m sure I would lose my mind.”  
“Why should you quit? You’re not the head of the family or anything like that. You don’t have any responsibility to them like Miyako has, not that that’s why she resigned, anyway, but why should you? You’re a lieutenant and a valuable asset to the Gotei. There’s no reason--”  
“I’m pregnant,” Nanao interrupted. She smiled suddenly. “I’m going to have a baby!”  
Rangiku jumped to her feet. “That’s wonderful!” She rushed over to her friend and hugged her tight. “Oh, Nanao! I’m so happy for you! Congratulations!”  
“Thank you!” Nanao answered, grinning from ear to ear. “I know we’re rushing things, but we both want a family so much. Rangiku, I'm so happy! I feel absolutely awful, and everything’s been a complete disaster, but I’m so happy. I can’t help it. Who knew you could spend all day vomiting and insulted by more relations than you knew you had and still be happier than you’d ever been in your life.”  
“Oh, I wonder if it’ll be a boy or a girl!” Rangiku exclaimed happily. “It’s so nice to have a friend who’s going to have a baby too! I’ll finally have someone to moan to about getting fat and stretch marks and always needing to use the bathroom and you’ll actually understand!”  
“What?” Nanao said. “Rangiku, what on earth are stretch marks?”  
Rangiku grinned. “This is going to be so much fun!”


	46. Chapter 46

Cherry blossom viewing on the Kuchiki estate: Hisana had hosted such events years ago, one day when all the shinigami of the Gotei were welcome within the grounds of the greatest house of Soul Society, but no one was surprised when Byakuya had not continued the practice. The surprise was when it was suddenly announced that Rukia would be continuing the late Lady Kuchiki’s tradition.  
Rangiku was ecstatic. Cherry blossom viewing contained all her favorite things, family and friends, picnic food and sake, and an excuse to wear something beautiful. She’d bought everyone new kimonos to wear--well, not Gin, as he wouldn't dress up for anything since he’d gotten his captain’s haori; Rangiku promised him no one was going to forget he was a captain, but he wouldn’t budge.  
Toshiro wished he could have done the same. He was glad to find he could still look masculine, even in a kimono decorated with pink flowers, but he was very concerned that his mother wasn’t the only person who was going to call him ‘beautiful’ during the course of the day. Poor Kinta was in a pink kimono that matched his mother’s so it could have been worse, but there was just no way he could stop scowling, even as he followed his parents through a rain of cherry blossoms to find a place to lay out a picnic blanket among their friends.  
Lieutenant Hisagi was the first friend they ran across--everyone continued to call him Hisagi despite being an adopted Kyoraku because there was only one Kyoraku in the Gotei, and everyone knew it. He was carrying his daughter, Aiko, over one shoulder, as she screamed, “No change!” And hit his back with her tiny fists. Over his other shoulder was a pretty pink diaper bag decorated with embroidered hearts.  
“Having a good morning, Shuhei-kun?” Rangiku couldn’t help asking. She grinned hugely at his distressed and almost panicked expression.  
“What is an appropriate place to change a diaper at a cherry blossom viewing?” Hisagi asked, ignoring the baby’s continued screams.  
“Appropriate?” Rangiku repeated. “Why didn’t you change her where you were?”  
“Nanao thought it might bother the others,” Hisagi answered, speaking a little loudly because of the screaming. “And you never know, Captain Kuchiki might take it as an insult.”  
“Oh, good grief! Hand her over and I’ll change her,” Rangiku said. “I’m not afraid of upsetting Byakuya.”  
“Have fun, Ran-chan,” Gin said before Hisagi could even answer her. “I’ll find you the perfect place to get drunk under the cherry trees.”  
Rangiku glared after him and the two boys, running from diapers like they might be toxic. “Nanao is lucky to have you, Shuhei-kun,” Rangiku said. “I don’t think I can remember Gin changing a single diaper.”  
“Never?” Hisagi said, sounding envious.  
“You’re the better man; don’t you forget it.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku found Gin easily, as she walked with Hisagi back to Nanao, carrying a now deliriously happy Aiko, who kept reaching out trying to catch the falling petals in her pudgy little hands.  
Gin had stopped to talk to Captains Kyoraku and Ukitake rather than going on to find their own place. He had sat down with them and was accepting a cup of tea from Nemu as he listened to Kyoraku explain to him how sake was the traditional drink for cherry blossom viewing.  
Rangiku froze in place when Nemu sat back and Ukitake was suddenly visible. She hadn't seen him in over a year. Somehow the time had slipped by and she hadn’t wanted to be a bother; after all, she had heard his illness was growing worse. She hadn’t imagined it anything like this. The captain had always been a bit thin and pale, but now he looked positively skeletal, and his skin was not white but a deathly gray. She had wondered before why Nemu could never be bothered to socialize anymore, now she wondered how Nemu could force herself to leave him for an instant, even to go to work.  
“It’s a shock every time,” Hisagi said softly, lifting Aiko from her arms. “Believe it or not, today is better than usual. Do your best to smile; it helps.”  
He set Aiko on the ground and she toddled a few steps before falling down and crawling the rest of the way to the captains saying, “Jii, Jii, Jii!”  
“Well, hello there, Miss Aiko-chan!” Kyoraku exclaimed, scooping the girl up and setting her on his knee. “And how are you feeling now?”  
Aiko grabbed his nose and burst into laughter.  
Captain Kyoraku was probably the happiest grandfather on the planet. Rangiku was pretty sure that’s why he’d been so helpful about making Hisagi his son. He wanted to make sure Nanao couldn’t run off and have a family without him in it. He wanted to be Jii-chan, and a year in he was already spoiling Aiko to within an inch of her life. That child was always going to have everything she ever wanted, including infinite love and affection.  
Rangiku smiled at that, but it was hard to keep smiling when she noticed the sadness that Captain Ukitake could not quite hide in the gentle smile he turned on Aiko when she noticed him beside his friend and decided to lunge for his hair. He caught hold of the baby just as she tumbled over with a handful of his hair and lifted her into the air with hands that were not as steady as they had always been before.  
Rangiku’s eyes went to Nemu, watching her husband speak to the baby, requesting the release of his hair. She too was smiling with a sadness that echoed his. They’d had that dream for such a short time. Nemu had never even imagined having a family before and Ukitake probably hadn’t dared to in centuries, and now, when they’d both gotten so close, that dream was just one more thing they were losing. It wasn’t fair.  
Nemu seemed to notice Rangiku’s eyes on her. She raised her head and forced a bright smile that was too big to ever be natural on her face. “Please join us, Rangiku-san,” she said. “We have plenty of space, and Shiro-chan says our view is without compare.”  
Rangiku noticed Captain Ukitake’s cheeks turned just slightly pink at her words, and she wondered if he’d been describing a different view than the beauty that encircled them.  
“Well, if you don’t mind a little chaos,” Rangiku said, glancing around to spot Kinta running through the falling petals with his arms flung back, leaping over picnic blankets and baskets and at least one napping shinigami. Toshiro had vanished for the moment but he’d, no doubt, be back for food.  
“We love chaos,” Nemu answered.  
“Speak for yourself,” Nanao said. She pulled three sake glasses and a bottle from one of the baskets and said, “Do sit down, Rangiku. The chaos is unavoidable. These men cause at least as much as your children.”  
She didn’t need to be asked twice. Rangiku immediately sat down with the other two and took a glass. “Bless you, Nanao,” she declared after a sip. “Gin wouldn’t bring any sake. He said I could beg it off my friends if I wanted it that badly, and I was terribly afraid no one would offer.”  
Nanao frowned. “Why wouldn’t he--”  
“He’s cheap, but he likes to imply I’m a drunk,” Rangiku said, turning to frown at her husband. “Which I am not. I simply enjoy sharing a drink or two with my friends from time to time!”  
“Good for you, Ran-chan,” Kyoraku declared, raising his own glass in salute.  
“Thank you, Captain,” she answered before turning back to Nanao and Nemu and adding just a little loudly. “At least I’m not a boring teetotaler.”  
“I don’t know, Rangiku,” Nanao said, “I think it is probably best for all of Soul Society if your husband stays sober. The only time I’ve seen him drunk he seemed a little too prone to over-sharing, and I’ve no doubt he knows a great many more very private secrets now than he did then.”  
“There’s nothing for you to worry about, Nanao-chan,” Gin answered her from across the entire group. “Everyone already knows about you and Hisagi and your years of sex trysts, and you haven’t got any other good secrets.”  
“Not quite everyone,” Hisagi said, suddenly backing away from Kyoraku, his eyes on the captain’s face as his expression slowly shifted away from his easy smile.  
“Shun,” Ukitake said suddenly. “Aiko’s about to get your drink.”  
And the storm was gone. “Oh, no you don’t!” Kyoraku declared, raising his hand and saucer-like cup out of her reach. “Would you like to try some tea instead?”  
Aiko continued to reach for his cup. “Jink!” She demanded in annoyance. “Jink!”  
“Shuhei, get the girl some tea!” Kyoraku directed. “A sip of green tea won’t hurt her.”  
“Yes, sir,” Hisagi agreed, scrambling to find another cup for his daughter.  
Watching him, Rangiku thought that maybe it wasn’t so bad that she and Gin were orphans. At least they’d never had to worry about terrifying in-laws. Hisagi may have been the one officially adopted into the Kyoraku family, but he knew as well as anyone that if he ever hurt Nanao he would die a quick and painful death at the hands of his adopted father.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro returned nearly an hour later with a crowd that included younger lieutenants and the day’s hostess, Rukia. She looked like she was having a great deal of fun and had completely forgotten her position and duties. She was arguing with Renji about whose shunpo was faster and when Hinamori said Toshiro was faster than either of them she got seriously annoyed.  
“What would Ichimaru-chibi know about shunpo?” she demanded.  
“Oi,” Toshiro said. “You’re barely taller than me. At least I can still grow.”  
“Exactly,” Rukia said, turning to face him. “You are a child. Don’t start thinking you can defeat grown-ups. You’ll only embarrass yourself.”  
Toshiro’s eyes narrowed. He preferred to keep any real knowledge of his abilities within a small group. It was alright for the Gotei to know he’d learned shunpo, but if they really saw what he could do they might start paying a little more attention than he wanted.  
Renji laughed out loud. He’d seen Toshiro fight Yachiru; Rukia had no idea what she was getting herself into. “I’ll buy you dinner if you can beat the chibi,” he said, then he blushed scarlet, realizing he’d offered to buy Rukia a meal. It was a common bet among his broke friends, but Rukia was different.  
“You can’t be serious!” Rukia demanded, turning on her friend. “He’s barely four feet tall! If I can’t beat him I’ll buy you dinner for a week!”  
Gin spoke up suddenly. “I think you should have a race. Go to that tower and back--we’ll be able to see you if you wave from the roof. Whoever makes it back first is officially fastest.”  
“You’ll let Shiro-kun climb all the way up there?” Captain Kyoraku said doubtfully, just as Rangiku’s mouth fell open.   
She didn’t have any particular objection, but did Gin really think Toshiro should be racing seated officers?  
Gin’s smile only grew. “You’d better win, Shiro-chan, or you’ll be doing all the division exercises for a week.”  
Toshiro rolled his eyes.  
“And, Kira, try to remember you’re my lieutenant. Don’t embarrass me.”  
Kira, who’d been doing his best to stay invisible at the rear of the group, straightened up and said, “Yes, sir!”  
“Then who all is racing?” Rangiku asked. “Not me, obviously. Are all the kids going to try? Should we make Shuhei-kun?” She turned and saw he had a baby asleep on his shoulder and turned back to the others. “Just the five of you then.”  
“But I know I can’t beat Shiro-kun,” Hinamori protested immediately. “And I don’t see how we’re supposed to shunpo wearing kimonos.”  
“If Captain Kyoraku can keep his hat at that nice jaunty angle I’m sure you can handle a kimono,” Rangiku answered. “Everyone line up on the edge of this blanket. You can go on the count of three--oh, and if you run into anyone you’re disqualified--Nanao, you’d better be the judge; you’re impartial--ready? One, two, three, go!”  
She waved happily after them, although they’d all already vanished.  
“Do you really think Shiro-chan can win?” she asked, her smile fading slightly.  
“There he is on the tower!” Nanao exclaimed. “And Hinamori, and there are the others. He already has an amazing lead. I had no idea--”  
“I’m not practicing with the division,” Toshiro said, suddenly appearing before them.  
“Oh, well done!” Kyoraku declared, clapping loudly, and setting Aiko crying again.  
Rangiku jumped to her feet and hugged Toshiro tight against her chest.  
At that moment Kira appeared, and then Renji and Rukia an instant later, tripping over each other in their desperation to beat each other. Renji’s foot caught on the edge of the picnic blanket, and Nanao barely avoided being crushed as they both tumbled to the ground.  
“Get off me, you idiot!” Rukia shouted.  
“Sorry, sorry,” Renji said as he sat up, dodging a blow she aimed at his head. “I tripped! I’m sorry!”  
“You’re the biggest klutz in the Gotei,’ Rukia told him. “They should throw you out. And you’re stupid.”  
“Hey, who won, anyway?” Renji asked, in an attempt to distract her.  
They all looked at Nanao, but she’d gone over to take the crying baby from Hisagi and was no longer interested in them.  
“Toshiro did,” Kira announced. “He was ahead of me for the entire race, sorry, Captain.”  
Gin smiled. “I’m sure we’ll find some sort of training to bring you up to speed,” he said.  
“Toshiro should be at the Academy, Captain Ichimaru,” Hinamori said, stepping forward and meeting Gin’s eyes with as much boldness as she could manage. “I’m sure he’s strong enough now.”  
Gin shrugged. “Perhaps, but, as he’s not even old enough to be allowed to cut vegetables for dinner, I doubt he’s ready to be playing with a zanpakuto of his own.”  
“But Captain--”  
Ukitake interrupted her then. “Toshiro will grow up soon enough, Lieutenant. Allow him a few more years of hope and happiness before he must face the dark realities of a shinigami’s existence.”  
Everyone turned to the gentle captain in surprise. Not one of them had ever heard him voice any thought so grim.  
“Forgive me,” he said quickly. “We are here spending a beautiful day under the cherry blossoms with our friends and family. I'm afraid I've grown a little melancholy, having spent all winter long in bed--but isn't today a perfect day to wash all that darkness away?”  
“We've seen who's fastest. Now let's see who's mastered stealth with a game of kakurenbo; Shiro, you'd better be the oni so the others have a chance to show off their skills,” Gin said, cheerfully, and no one but Rangiku could have noticed the slight strain to his fox smile.  
“Or their complete lack of skill,” Rukia said, looking pointedly at Renji. “Have you ever managed to hide your reiatsu?”  
“Oi, I've moved up to Sixth Seat,” Renji protested. “I'm not completely incompetent!”  
“I'll count to ten,” Shiro announced. “You can hide wherever you want.”  
“You mean on the estate?” Kira asked.  
“If you want,” Toshiro agreed. The last time he’d played against Gin the only limit had been the city walls. That had taken a while.  
“Ok,” Hinamori said. “We're ready!”  
“One, two, three...”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

It was an altogether perfect day, Rangiku decided as she climbed into bed that night. Everyone had been together and happy, and the boys had had so much fun. Toshiro had a few more skills than she'd realized, but she'd never been so stupid as to think Gin wasn't teaching him anything. It had been a nice day, and they should make an effort to get out more.  
“I won't be home tomorrow night,” Gin said, suddenly.  
Rangiku turned around quickly. “What did you say?”  
“I won't be home tomorrow night, probably not the next either,” he said. “You're always wanting warning, aren't you?”  
That was new. She knew his work schedule inside and out, and knew when he would be out at night for the division, but tomorrow night was not one of those days. He was actually warning her before he disappeared.   
She grinned. “Are you trying to be considerate?”  
“Never hurts to try something new.”  
“No,” she agreed, still smiling. “It doesn't.”  
“There are a few things though,” he said, raising one hand to her cheek. He drew her close and kissed her briefly. “That should always stay the same.”  
That she couldn’t argue with either.


	47. Chapter 47

“It won’t hurt you to watch your brother once,” Rangiku said.  
Toshiro’s scowl only increased. “I watched him all last week. I didn’t get to go to the Fifth once.”  
“Well, you don’t need to go to the Fifth,” Rangiku answered. “You can stay here and play with your brother.”  
“Play with him? I’m not a kid anymore, Mom. I don't play,” Toshiro said. “Hinamori says I’m more than strong enough to go to the Academy. Maybe I should see about taking the entrance exam.”  
Rangiku’s eyes widened, and Toshiro could see fear appear in her eyes. Almost immediately, she forced a smile to her lips. “Don’t be silly, Shiro-chan. You can’t want to go the Academy! The students are all at least twice your size. You want to go when they’ll treat you like an equal, not a little boy.   
“Don’t worry. You’ll be all grown up before you know it, and you’ll be the star of the Academy. You’ll make lots of friends and have so much fun--I loved the Academy, but it wouldn’t be any fun if you’re smaller than everyone else. It’s being there with your peers that makes it fun. You get to meet and spend time with so many people who are just like you. I know you’ll love it!”  
“Maybe I don’t want to go just to have fun. Maybe I actually want to learn to be a shinigami,” Toshiro answered. Even if his father thought he could skip the Academy entirely if he mastered bankai first, he still really wanted to go. He wanted to learn to be a shinigami, not just how his father or Aizen saw it, but every possible part of being a shinigami. He even wanted to study with the kido and stealth squads if he could manage it. There was so much to learn.  
That was clearly not the right thing to say. For a second Rangiku looked like she might panic. She took a deep breath before she answered. “When you’re grown up you can go be a shinigami, until then you’re going to be my little boy, and that’s final. Understood?”  
Toshiro didn’t even know how to answer that. His mother did not give ultimatums. She barely made rules at all. He’d been allowed to go wherever he wanted whenever he wanted for years; all he had to do was let somebody know so they could find him if they needed him. Every other child he’d ever met had been extremely jealous of just how little his mother controlled his life. His father, sure, he could give completely unreasonable orders when he was in the mood, but his mother; he’d always felt like she at least respected his opinions.  
Rangiku seemed to realize she’d hurt him, and she tried to explain herself. “Look, Shiro-chan, Daddy and I just want you to have everything we never did, a home, and a family, and a childhood. I guess those don’t seem like important things to you since you’ve always had them, but I can’t think of anything more important. So, please, please, try not to be in too much of a hurry to leave it all behind.”  
“That’s what Dad said,” Toshiro said, and he figured it probably wouldn’t kill him to forget about the Academy for a while longer. Hinamori would be disappointed, but she’d probably understand that he didn’t want to upset his mom. She’d be disappointed, anyway, when he got out and didn’t join Aizen’s division. Just like his father would be disappointed when he waited to test for captain. He’d be disappointing people left and right, but he could at least give his mom a little more time.  
“You talked to Daddy about--”  
“Don’t worry,” he said quickly, before she could quiz him on what exactly he had discussed with Gin and why. “I don’t really want to go to the Academy now. I can wait.”  
“Did Daddy tell you about when we were kids?” Rangiku asked, looking hopeful.   
She’d been trying for years to get the two of them to talk, but neither Gin nor Toshiro had ever shown much sign that they had any desire to communicate. Toshiro knew this must sound to her like they were finally getting closer, and he really didn’t want her to get her hopes up. “No,” he said, “And you’d better hurry. You’re going to be late for your meeting.”  
“You don’t mind watching Kin-chan?” she said.  
He shrugged. “You can’t take him to the lieutenants meeting. I’ll think of something fun.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku was walking the dark path to the captain’s residence, holding a brand new astronomy book from the World of the Living, and practicing her apology. It was after ten. There was absolutely no decent excuse for getting home this late. The book had been intended as a birthday present for Shiro-chan, but she was desperate.  
She should have been home five hours ago at the very latest. She really should have come and picked up Kin-chan after the lieutenants meeting nearly twelve hours ago, but she’d had so much work at the division today, and it was Gin’s day to watch the hyperactive child. She really couldn’t take another day of making sure that child stayed out of the supply closets, kitchen pantries, and off the roof. How could he be so absolutely impossible when his brother had been so easy?  
Enough really was enough! They had the money; as soon as Gin reappeared from wherever he’d vanished to this time, she was going to tell him they were hiring a nanny. Toshiro, at least, would be relieved.  
Her young, golden-haired son appeared suddenly on the path in front of her. He was grinning and said, “Hi, Mommy,” before he vanished just as suddenly.  
Almost instantly he reappeared, shrieking as his brother tackled him to the ground.   
“I said, stop it!” Toshiro shouted, as he scrambled to get a tight hold on his younger boy.  
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Kinta shouted. “Nii-chan, let go!”  
“What on earth?” Rangiku demanded.  
Toshiro dragged Kinta, still struggling, to his feet. “I may have made a mistake,” he said, looking sheepish.  
“What?”  
“Nii-chan taught me shunpo!” Kinta announced with delight.  
Rangiku’s mouth fell open. Her horror was beyond words. Her hyperactive child could now move at hyper-speed. Forget the nanny; no one less than an officer in the Gotei was even going to be able to keep up with him.  
“I didn’t think he could really learn it,” Toshiro said, miserably. “His reiatsu isn’t very high, and he doesn’t know the first thing about controlling it. How could he learn shunpo? It’s really advanced.”  
Rangiku’s eyes went from Toshiro’s face to his cherubic little brother, grinning despite how tightly his brother held onto him. “Kin-chan,” she said, carefully keeping the panic out of her voice. “That’s so clever of you, learning shunpo. I bet you’re so good at it too, but now it’s bedtime, so no more shunpo till tomorrow, ok? Then you can show Mommy just how good you can do, ok?”  
“Ok, Mommy,” Kinta agreed with his usual pleasantness. Now all she had to do was get him to bed and to sleep before he forgot he wasn’t supposed to use shunpo till morning, and they got to chase him down all over again.  
She bent down and picked Kinta up, handing Toshiro the book as she did so. “I think we’re even now,” she told him.  
“I’m really, really sorry,” Toshiro said as they set out for home.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“So you remember how I got some sekiseki about two months ago, to keep Kinta from shunpoing away whenever I ask him to do anything?” Rangiku said as she ran her fingers through Gin’s fine hair.  
“Mmm,” Gin answered, nuzzling his face against her soft breasts. She could talk about whatever she felt like right now, he wouldn't complain.  
“Well, I had to store it away when I wasn't actually using it because it gives Shiro-chan nausea, and I had to store it somewhere he wouldn't usually go,” she explained further and pointlessly.  
“Mm-hum,” Gin answered, running his hand from her rib cage to her hips and wondering if he had the energy for another round.  
“I stored it in here, Gin,” she said. “I stuck it next to the lamp.”  
Gin’s eyes opened, and he turned his head slightly to look at the little table beside the door. There was no longer an interesting hunk of white stone sitting beside the lamp.  
“Shit,” he said as realization dawned.  
“Maybe it'll be a girl this time,” Rangiku said, trying to sound hopeful.


	48. Chapter 48

Kuchiki Rukia was all Gin could think about as he returned to Seireitei. The poor girl was the key. She would have to die for Aizen’s ambition. He reminded himself she wasn't the first and she wouldn’t be the last. He could not afford to care. He’d already made that mistake once, and he still wasn’t sure how that was going to pan out.  
He was barely through the West Gate when Kaien appeared before him looking furious, and was he worried? Gin stopped abruptly. “Bit late for you, isn’t it, Shiba-kun?” he asked, pleasantly,  
“Where have you been?” Kaien demanded.  
“Not sure how that’s any of your business.”  
The look of fury on Kaien’s face doubled. “Toshiro’s missing! We hoped he was with you.”  
“What?” Now that didn’t make any sense. It was three in the morning. Toshiro wasn’t the sort to stay out all night--and how hard could he have been to find, even if he had? He had no reason to hide his reiatsu. Even Rangiku should have been able to locate him anywhere in Seireitei-- “Oh.”  
“Oh? Your son is gone! His reiatsu has completely been erased from the city. We’ve only been waiting to find out if he was with you before we start a grid-search for his body--”  
“Well, that’s not necessary,” Gin interrupted. “Go tell Ran I know where he is, because I’m sure she’s panicking, and I’ll bring him home in a few minutes.”  
“Rangiku’s not at home,” Kaien said. The fear had vanished from his face, but the fury seemed to have doubled. “She’s at the Fourth. The stress of searching for her missing child set off early labor. I haven’t heard if she or the baby are alright.”  
Gin vanished before Kaien had finished speaking. He had exactly one thought. He would bring Shiro to Ran, and that would fix everything.  
He raced across the rooftops, barely seeing the city around him in his hurry to reach the Third. He didn’t even notice Kaien chasing after him. Nothing mattered but getting Rangiku’s child to her.  
He didn’t slow when he reached his division. He passed guards who never noticed him and raced to the disused rear gardens with their overgrown bamboo groves, and a barrier that was designed never to be noticed.  
He drew Shinso as he ran and slammed it into the barrier, shattering it in his hurry to reach the boy. A rush of freezing air hit him and before him a forest of frozen bamboo coated in ice like flowers spread out, half buried in drifts of snow that reached as high as four feet.  
Gin didn’t even pause. He raced across the snow to the source of the storm. Toshiro lay still in the center of the circle of ice and snow. His eyes were closed and in his outstretched hand lay Hyorinmaru.  
Toshiro’s reiatsu had faded to a whisper. It was obvious the moment the barrier came down that he had pushed too hard and spent too much. It was nothing but exhaustion that had taken him down. A couple days of rest and he would be as good as new.  
Gin knelt beside him and gently pulled his hand away from the zanpakuto’s hilt.  
“What the hell?” Kaien’s voice broke the silence of the frozen world, shock had beaten anger for the strongest emotion as he surveyed the power of the storm the boy had wrought. “Rukia couldn’t do anything like this,” he added, and Kuchiki Rukia was the strongest known ice-wielder in the Gotei.  
“He overdid it,” Gin said as he picked up the blade and slid it into its sheath before shoving it into the oversized bag Toshiro always carried. “This is a move he hasn’t shown me, and it looks like he tried to use it in bankai. He should have known better.”  
He slung the bag over his shoulder and slid his arms under Toshiro’s limp form, lifting him gently. “Do you think you could put up a temporary barrier until the snow melts, nothing fancy, but it would be better if no one else found out about this.”  
“You think you can hide this?” Kaien said, unable to move past the shock of finding Toshiro, not only with a Zanpakutō, but with one of inarguable power, easily comparable to a captain’s, and Gin had mentioned bankai as though it was not of any significance at all.  
“Done a pretty good job so far, but I’d better get him to Ran now, if she’s already panicking.”  
“Rangiku doesn’t know?” Kaien said slowly, as he realized this was yet another secret Gin was keeping from his wife. “You son of a bitch! You taught him this and you hid it from her! What the hell is wrong with you?”  
“Pretty much everything, but I’ve really got to go just now so—“ and he vanished.

—-

It was only Unohana’s hand on her shoulder that kept Rangiku from jumping to her feet the moment Gin appeared in the doorway with Shiro in his arms. She reached out, choking back a sob. Relief flowed through her, followed by almost giddy joy. Gin, smiling just like he always should, had brought back her baby.  
“He exhausted himself attempting a high level kido,” Gin told her as he brought the boy to her.  
Unohana stood and made a quick examination of Toshiro as Rangiku touched her son’s sleeping face. “He’s correct,” Unohana agreed. “Nothing but exhaustion. All he needs is a little sleep and he will be as good as new.”  
Rangiku nodded, but she found she couldn't stop the tears pouring down her face, and she was fighting hard against the urge to sob. She was shaking with emotion. The joy of finding him alive and well was as overwhelming as her fear had been.  
“But why couldn’t we find him?” Rangiku asked. She wondered how she’d ever forgotten how beautiful Toshiro was. He was so exquisitely, unbearably perfect. She knew now that she’d die if anything ever happened to him. She’d never experienced anything so horrible in her life as these last few hours had been.  
“That’s my fault,” Gin said. “I made him a shielded practice area so he could practice uninterrupted. I’m sorry. I never thought about what would happen if he was stuck inside, and I wasn’t around. I should have thought that through—are you alright?”  
Rangiku looked to Unohana who answered for her. “Rangiku almost lost her baby tonight, Captain Ichimaru,” the healer said in her too calm voice. “It will be a few days before I can be sure the danger of miscarriage has passed. Until then Rangiku will need to remain here, and I expect her to be able to rest. I am sure I can depend upon you to see that there is no more excitement to trouble her while she recovers?”  
“Of course,” Gin agreed quickly. Anything else would clearly have been bad for his health.  
“And now you should take your son home and put him to bed,” Unohana told him. “You have another very frightened son waiting there for you, and in the morning there are quite a few people you will need to make apologies to who spent many difficult hours searching for your son in your absence. I hope you can be properly grateful.”  
“Yes, ma’am,” Gin agreed, but his attention was very obviously on Rangiku rather than what Unohana was saying. Even his fox-mask couldn’t hide the intensity with which he was watching the tears flow down his wife’s face.  
“Good night, Captain Ichimaru,” Unohana said firmly. “I will let you know when Rangiku is ready for visitors tomorrow. I do not expect to see you before then.”  
For an instant Gin’s ever-present smile shifted to a frown. Then it was gone. “I have to take him home now, Ran,” he said, with out of character gentleness. “He’s going to be fine so don’t worry. Just let Unohana take care of you and get better.”  
Rangiku pulled her eyes away from Toshiro, and raised a smiling face to Gin. “I knew you’d bring him home safe,” she said.  
“Just for you,” he answered.  
Her smile grew. “I love you,” she said.  
“Good night, Ran-chan,” Gin answered. He shifted Toshiro in his arms so the boy’s head was rested against his shoulder. “I’ll be back to see you in the morning.”  
“I’ll be waiting,” Rangiku answered, laying back against the pillow.


	49. Chapter 49

Kira had been watching Kinta for hours when Gin finally brought Toshiro home. He was tired enough that he left without even asking for an explanation, and Gin was stuck with a toddler who’d found an impressive second wind and was shunpoing from one room to another asking questions about his mother and brother at high speed.  
Gin didn’t even try to answer as he carried Toshiro to his room and tucked him in bed. He just ignored him, figuring his steam would run out eventually, and went to the kitchen to make a pot of tea.  
“Pour me a cup if you would, Gin-kun,” a too familiar voice said, and Gin raised his head to see Aizen sitting in the corner of the kitchen, calmly waiting for him.  
At that moment Kinta appeared in front of Aizen, grinning hugely. “Did you see me?” the boy demanded. “I can shunpo!” And with that he vanished again, reappearing in the doorway and then beside his father, but before he could disappear again, Gin caught hold of him.   
“I’m showing Captain Aizen!” Kinta protested loudly.  
“And now you’re done,” Gin answered, picking up the struggling child. “It’s bedtime.” He looked back at Aizen as he carried Kinta out of the room. “I won’t be a moment, sir,” he said, quickly.  
His mind raced furiously as he calmly settled the boy into bed and tucked him in. The game was up. Aizen knew he’d been training Toshiro secretly. He’d likely seen everything Toshiro had done even if Shiba had bothered to replace the barrier. It had taken a lot of effort to create one Aizen would not notice in the first place, and now he had to come up with some sort of explanation. He’d had one at first, when he’d still expected to be discovered, but it had been years and that excuse was no longer any good.  
Oh, well, he thought as he left Kinta with threats of dire consequences if he got up, Aizen had always known he was playing his own games. Maybe this one would be enough to hide the others. He pulled Hyorinmaru from Toshiro’s bag and carried the zanpakuto with him to the kitchen.  
He knelt down on the far side of the table from Aizen and carefully laid the sheathed weapon before his master. It had been a long time since he’d played such a subservient role, but it was nothing, surrendering his pride was a small price to pay to remain in Aizen’s good graces.  
“It’s name is Hyorinmaru,” he said softly. “It’s stronger than Shinso. Someday it may rival Ryujin Jakka.”  
Aizen ran his fingertips along the black sheath. “Did you think you would protect him from me, Gin-kun?”  
Gin shrugged. Apologies did not work on Aizen; neither would begging for mercy, and any attempt at sincerity after all this time would immediately put Aizen on alert. But if he could play it just right, he might be able to turn the whole thing into a compliment of Aizen’s greatness. Even Aizen was not completely immune to flattery, and if he added to that an accidental revelation of his own weakness, maybe it would be enough. If Aizen gained even more power over him, maybe he would be willing to let this go. “I was only trying to make him into someone who could be useful to you. He’s always been too much like his mother, stubborn and sentimental, just the type to become another perfect shinigami to live and die for the Gotei,” Gin said, wondering if Aizen believed anything he was saying. “But I thought if I were the only one to train him, before he’d been indoctrinated in the Academy and its false ideals, then I could make him one of us. I intended to bring him to you when I knew he was ready to serve you.”  
Aizen smiled. “And when was he going to be ready?”  
Gin flinched. “His bankai is nearly perfect. He could pass the captain’s test tomorrow,” he said.  
“But still not ready to serve me?”  
“He’s nothing but a child. He may possess a captain’s strength, but he has the mind of a child. He’s an idealist, and he despises me as a liar and a cheat. I’m afraid I’ve failed,” Gin said, forcing the same lightness to his voice it always held, “On the plus side he adores you. I suppose I should have left it to you in the first place, but he is mine. I really thought I might make something of him.”  
“It means something to you, that he is your son, doesn’t it, Gin-kun?” Aizen asked. “I think maybe you love him.”  
Gin cocked his head to one side, frowning, as though the idea had never occurred to him before. “I am proud of him,” he said finally. “My son has achieved more than anyone would ever have believed a child could. He is extraordinary. I’ve never been one for showing off, but I would like Seireitei to know his strength; I would like to see them all acknowledge his power. And most of all I would want them all to know he is mine.”  
“And is that what you want from me as well?” Aizen asked. “Are you looking for approval or perhaps praise?”  
Gin smiled suddenly. “But don’t you think he is impressive?” He asked in a light and joking tone, hoping Aizen would see a neediness beneath it. Aizen had always taken something like the role of a father with him. Maybe he would see Gin’s attempt to train Toshiro secretly, not as defiance of him at all, but as an attempt to impress him. He’d done insane things before to impress Aizen--they had mostly involved murder, but the idea was the same--a fatherless child who wanted the attention and approval of a respected superior. “He could be the youngest person to master bankai in the history of Soul Society. That’s something, isn’t it?”  
“And if he does not ever come to our way of thinking, what then?” Aizen asked, “If he draws Hyorinmaru against you?”  
Gin’s grin grew huge. “Kin-chan’s turning out to be a quick learner, and this next one--surely I can get it right at least once.”  
That’s what I like best about you, Gin-kun. You’re always optimistic.”


	50. Chapter 50

“Let me get this straight,” Gin said, looking at Miyako suspiciously. “You want to take both of the boys for multiple days and nights?”  
Miyako glared back at him. “Only until Rangiku is home. And please take this as a critique of your parenting skills. I don’t think they need to spend multiple days with only you to look after them.”  
“Oh, I agree,” Gin answered, smiling. “Might as well leave them unattended as with me. I think Kin-chan’s in the division library harassing Shiro at the moment if you’d like to take them now.”  
Miyako’s frown grew. “What about their things? Don’t you think you should pack them an overnight bag?”  
“Oh, I’m sure Shiro can do a better job than I could—tell them I said to be good.” And with that Gin hurried Lady Shiba out of his office.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro did not mind staying with Miyako and Kaien. They were always pretty nice, and Miyako didn’t expect him to spend his time watching Kin-chan. In the mornings she sent him on to the Thirteenth with Kaien and kept his little brother with her. It was altogether a nice change of pace.  
He spent his time following Kaien around, checking on various people around the division, and Kaien explained more to him about how various assignments were supposed to work than either of his parents had ever bothered.  
It wasn’t until lunch on his third day in the Thirteenth that he finally saw Ukitake. He and Kaien picked up bento boxes from the kitchen and went out along the wooden walkways across the water to Ukitake’s private residence.  
“The Captain’s having a good day,” Kaien told him as they walked. “I’m sure he’ll want to see you.”  
“Ok,” Toshiro agreed, although he knew that all a good day recently meant was that Ukitake wasn’t currently trying to drown in his own blood as his lungs disintegrated, not that he was going to be able to talk or play Go like they used to.  
There was a barrier on the pavilion out on the pond where Kaien was leading him. That didn’t surprise Toshiro. It was February and Captain Ukitake was even worse in the cold. It hadn't been much of a winter, in Toshiro's opinion. It had barely dropped below freezing once and hadn't snowed at all, except what he made for his mother and her now traditional New Years ice skating.  
The barrier kept in an insane amount of heat. It felt to Toshiro like he might as well be walking into a sauna, not just within the pavilion but in a wide circle around it, shown by the fact that the reeds and water lilies surrounding the wooden supports were still green and growing.  
It was all Nemu’s fault, or, Toshiro supposed, it was really thanks to her, that the captain could avoid the winter’s chill. She and her father had invented a small, portable heater that created its own sealed space in a radius of fifty feet that was as warm and comfortable as late spring, just for Captain Ukitake. It was kind of her to do so, and Toshiro knew it, but he really hated the stupid heater.  
Toshiro even managed not to frown when he saw Nemu sitting near the captain enjoying lunch with him.   
Ukitake was sitting up at least, although on a futon, and eating lunch on one of those folding tables like Toshiro’s mother brought him when he was sick enough to eat in bed. Even in the heated space Ukitake wore an extra coat over his captain’s haori. He looked very tired, but the gray pallor of last winter that had slowly faded over the year had not returned.  
Ukitake raised his head, his dark eyes meeting Shiro’s for a moment before he smiled. “Shiro-chan,” he said softly. “Kaien tells me you have something to show me.”  
“What?” Toshiro said, looking back at Kaien.  
“Your zanpakuto, Toshiro,” Kaien answered. “I know it’s in your bag. Why don’t you take it out.”  
Toshiro’s eyes widened, and he took a step back. His father hadn’t told him exactly what had happened when he passed out three days ago, but he had said there was nothing to worry about, that no one had been able to find him, and his secret was still safe--so how the hell did Kaien and Ukitake know about it?  
“You don’t have anything to be afraid of, Shiro-chan,” Ukitake said gently. “You are among friends, and the barrier Nemu gave to this heater is strong enough to prevent anyone however powerful from eavesdropping or entering uninvited. All of your secrets are safe here.”  
Kaien stepped past Toshiro and sat down on the tatami floor of the pavilion. “Relax, Toshiro, we’re worried about you. We’re not going to hurt you,” he said, and then, instead of keeping his eyes on Toshiro, he got out his bento and untied the strings.  
Toshiro knew Kaien was probably just trying to make him relax, and he was probably still watching him and would react instantly if he tried to run, but still, it was hard not to relax when it was just him and Ukitake--Nemu, too, but she didn’t even have a zanpakuto; it was hard to consider her threatening. “How do you know about Hyorinmaru?” he asked finally.  
“I was with your dad when he came and got you, when you’d passed out. I got a small taste of what you can do with it, too. You had frozen every plant inside the barrier and buried it all under a few feet of snow,” Kaien said. “Your dad said you’d probably pushed yourself too far trying a new move in bankai. He was right, wasn’t he?”  
Toshiro shrugged. “It was an experiment. I wouldn’t have tried it if I’d known he’d left Seireitei. I knew it’d be risky.”  
“Then you have mastered bankai?” Captain Ukitake said softly.  
Toshiro turned to face him. The gentle captain looked sad, and that frightened Toshiro. He wondered what about him learning bankai could make Ukitake sad. “You’re going to make me join the Gotei, aren’t you?” he asked. “It’s ok. Mom won’t like it, but it’d be kind of cool, as long as they’ll let me test for captain.”  
“Test for captain?” Kaien repeated, shocked.  
“Yeah, that’s what Dad wants me to do--when I join. Why should I bother with the Academy when I’ve already mastered bankai?”  
“When’s he planning this?” Kaien asked.  
“I don’t know,” Toshiro said. “I don’t think he can decide. Sometimes he tells me I should go become captain of the Tenth so I can make Mom stop being crazy, but he’s always made me hide everything he taught me so they wouldn’t make me go when I’m still a kid. I guess he didn’t like being younger than everyone when he became a shinigami so he didn’t want me to either--and it would upset Mom, and he’d do pretty much anything to keep her happy.”  
“Really?” Kaien said, raising one eyebrow.  
Toshiro shrugged. “Yeah, you know, he drives her crazy, but he always gives her everything she wants.”  
“Then why is he training you so hard if he doesn’t want you to become a shinigami anytime soon?” Kaien asked.  
“I don’t know. It’s not like he actually tells me things. He’s just always made me work on things, but it’s just me, not Kin-chan. He hasn’t even made Kin-chan learn to suppress his reiatsu, and I could do that without even thinking about it by the time I was his age. It was always super important that I learn everything, but it’s like Kin-chan doesn’t even matter. I even taught him shunpo to show Dad that he wasn’t weak, and he could learn stuff too, but Dad still just lets him play all the time.”  
“Why do you think that is?” Kaien asked. “Do you think your dad has some sort of special plan for you?”  
“If he does I wish he’d tell me,” Toshiro answered. Then he smiled a little bitterly. “Maybe he is just making me strong to protect my mom. That’s what he always said when I was little, ‘you’ve got to be strong enough to keep Mommy safe.’ Maybe that’s what I am, Mom’s bodyguard, since he’s always gone.”  
Kaien and Ukitake exchanged looks then, and Ukitake nodded.  
“Do you know where your dad goes?” Kaien asked.  
“Nobody knows where he goes,” Toshiro answered in annoyance. “Out of Seireitei. I’ve tried to follow him a couple of times, but he went over the wall, and I can’t go into Rukongai alone--I promised my mom, but if I ever find out it’s for something stupid like going to see a girlfriend or something I’m going to kill him.”  
“Is that what you think he’s doing?” Kaien asked. “Something stupid?”  
Toshiro shook his head. “No, it’s important, whatever it is,” he looked very annoyed to admit it. “He wouldn’t leave Mom all the time like that if he didn’t think it was really important. It really hurts her every single time. For a long time I thought he just didn’t care, but--I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong. I’m just a kid.”  
“We don’t think you’re wrong, Toshiro,” Kaien said. “In fact we’re pretty sure your dad is involved in something very important and probably very dangerous. We want to help him, but we need to learn everything we can if we’re going to be able to. He’s been training you secretly so we’re hoping he’s told you something.”  
Toshiro opened his mouth to protest, his father had never told him anything real in his entire life, but Kaien cut him off. “I know you don’t think he’s told you anything, but he’s spent so much time and energy training you, maybe he’s been preparing you. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about Ichimaru Gin, it’s that everything he does has a reason.”  
“Yeah, well good luck figuring that out,” Toshiro said, and he finally sat down. He dropped his bag beside him and opened his bento. “Dad said never to tell anyone anything about Hyorinmaru or my training, but I’m pretty sure you guys are the good guys, and I’m not so sure about him, so I guess you can ask me whatever you want, and I’ll tell you if I know anything.”  
“I appreciate your trust in us, Shiro-chan,” Ukitake answered. “And I promise--” He was cut off by a fit of coughing, and quickly raised a handkerchief to his lips. Toshiro cringed when he saw how quickly the cloth was drenched in blood.  
Nemu, who’d been silent and still as a statue until that moment, moved at lightning speed, whisking his table out of the way and moving a stack of cushions behind him, and then, just as suddenly, she was moving slowly and carefully, gently laying her husband back against the cushions and stroking his hair and face as the coughing fit slowly passed.  
She whispered something to him then, and Toshiro was glad he couldn’t hear it, because the way she was leaning so close with her lips almost on his ear, it was obviously private, and he really wished people wouldn’t do things like that when he was around. Then Nemu took the bloody handkerchief and washed the last of the blood from Ukitake’s lips before she sat back and seemed to become a statue once more.  
Ukitake smiled at Toshiro. “I don’t look like I can do much of anything, anymore, do I, Shiro-chan? It must be hard for you to put any trust in someone so frail.”  
Toshiro shook his head. “I guess if something is going to happen there’s no one’s side I’d rather be on.”  
“Thank you,” Ukitake answered.  
“Something strange has been going on for a while, both in Soul Society and in the World of the Living,” Kaien said. “There have been hollows with their masks partially removed. They have greater power and more intelligence than normal hollows, and some carry swords like zanpakuto. It’s almost like they have become more like shinigami. They are called Arrancar, and the Gotei does not know where they have come from or why.”  
Toshiro nodded. “My dad told me about them. They killed Captain Shiba and Lieutenant Suzuki, didn’t they? And one almost killed Miyako?”  
“What else did your father tell you about Arrancar?” Kaien asked, and Toshiro couldn’t miss the hopeful look in his eyes.  
“Nothing,” Toshiro answered. “I guess you think he knows about them, but all he told me was that if I ever saw a hollow with its mask even partially removed I was supposed to use shunpo to get away as fast as I could and repress my reiatsu so it couldn’t find me. He told me about Captain Shiba and Lieutenant Suzuki so I’d understand I couldn’t fight them--you know, you don’t have to pretend to want to help my dad. You can just tell me if he’s doing something wrong. I’m not going to try to defend him. I know he’s not a good person.”  
“Toshiro, that’s your father you’re talking about,” Kaien said, seriously. “Don’t you think you should--”  
“He lies to everyone,” Toshiro interrupted. “And he steals for the fun of it, and he learns people’s secrets and uses them to embarrass them and sometimes he blackmails them when he wants something--you think I haven’t noticed just because I'm a kid? I’ve even heard the rumors he killed a couple senior officers in the Fifth to move up and I believe them. He’d do anything to get what he wants.”  
“Shiro-chan,” Ukitake said softly. “You are right. There are many reasons to believe Captain Ichimaru is not a good man, but he is your father, and in that role I would have to say he has done very well. You have spent your life loved and sheltered and protected from any threat, while still being taught everything you will need to be able to stand on your own. Even with your extraordinary talent and intelligence you could not have come so far so young on your own.”  
Toshiro’s eyes dropped. He didn’t want to think of what his father had done for him, and he definitely didn’t want to be grateful. His dad was a jerk or worse, probably a lot worse. He didn’t want to complicate things by thinking about things Gin had done right. It was like how he’d much rather think about the times his father had made his mother cry than all the times he’d made her laugh. Thinking about everything just became too confusing, and he hated that. More than anything he really hated the fact that he just couldn’t understand his father.  
“The truth is that we don’t know,” Ukitake said. “We don’t know what is happening or why, and we don’t know what your father’s part in any of it is. We have seen only pieces of the puzzle and even those are unclear. For now we must watch and wait, comparing what little we think we know with what we have seen and heard, and slowly we hope to gain a greater understanding of what may be coming and to prepare to protect any who may be threatened.”  
“But how can we do anything when we don’t know anything?” Toshiro demanded.  
“We know a few things, Toshiro,” Kaien said. “The Arrancar have been a problem for a long time, and we have been working all that time to learn more about them and to find better ways to fight them. If they are connected to someone within the Gotei we must do what we can to learn who that is, but we are ready to protect Soul Society, and we will remain ready.”  
Toshiro raised his head. “Then I will too,” he said, and that cold, hard determination appeared in his eyes that seemed strange in one so young but still could not be doubted. “I will become a captain. Will you arrange for me to take the test, Captain Ukitake?”  
“If not me, you will ask someone else, won’t you?” Ukitake said, looking sad.  
“If I have to I will go up to the gate of Division One and use my bankai in front of the entire Gotei. I’m strong enough; if Soul Society is in danger I need to help protect it,” Toshiro said. Then he smiled slightly. “Anyway, my dad’s right; my mom needs a captain to keep her from doing anything too crazy, especially if something big’s coming.”  
Kaien flinched at that, but he didn’t say anything, and Toshiro didn’t notice. He was too busy waiting for Ukitake’s answer.  
“I will contact the General, and you will have your test,” he said finally. “But, Shiro-chan, you must know that your mother would rather die herself than watch you step into the line of fire to protect her.”  
“That’s ‘cause she doesn’t know I’m stronger than she is,” Toshiro answered, but he knew that wasn’t the case. He knew that no matter how strong he got his mother would want to be the one who protected him and not the other way around. But that was too bad; he was stronger, and she’d just have to learn to deal with it.


	51. Chapter 51

The image of Captain Ichimaru walking across the Fourth Division with an enormous bouquet of lilies and roses in every shade of pink was enough to make anyone take notice, and it wasn’t even over the fact that the captain had somehow managed to get ahold of so many beautiful, fresh flowers in February. The healers exchanged skeptical glances and even Yamada Hanataro sighed and said, “It isn’t going to work.”  
“Good morning, Ran-chan,” Gin said merrily as he entered Rangiku’s room.  
Rangiku opened one eye, and then she shot up, her face a picture of terror. “Oh my God! Did you kill one of the kids?” she demanded.  
Gin cocked his head to one side and gave her a puzzled look. “I haven’t killed anyone, Ran. What an unpleasant way to greet your husband. Shouldn’t you at least say ‘good morning’ before accusing me of murder?”  
Rangiku just stared at him with her mouth hanging open. Eventually he sighed and went to the side table where a vase held a much less impressive bunch of early tulips. He replaced them with his gift and smiled at the result. Rangiku had to love it, so many pretty pink flowers, and they even smelled nice. He’d gone and relieved a florist in the World of the Living of the bouquet in the middle of the night. It’d been a bit of a rush to get back to Seireitei before the news broke, but he seemed to have managed it. She hadn’t strangled him the moment she’d seen him.  
“What did you do?” Rangiku demanded when she realized he was not going to stop messing with the flowers.  
He turned around and grinned at her. “The thing is, Ran, that it really isn’t my fault. I was only doing what any good, responsible father would do. I can’t help what Shiro suddenly decides to do, and it was probably at Shiba’s encouragement anyway. He’s been staying with Shiba; I did tell you that, didn’t I? He and Kin-chan both, and they’ve been having the best time with Miyako; you know how they love her, and--”  
“What did you do?” Rangiku repeated, this time her voice held a clear threat.  
“I don’t see what else I could have done considering--”  
“Gin,” she said his name through clenched teeth. Only the fact that she would be endangering her unborn child kept her from leaping bodily out of bed and strangling him. “Tell me what you did.”  
“I helped Shiro master bankai,” he said quickly, taking a step back.  
For a moment Rangiku said nothing. Then very slowly she spoke. “That’s why he needed a sealed practice ground,” she said slowly.  
“Well, yes, it is better to keep the area shielded when you’re experimenting with that sort of thing. I’m afraid he could do a lot of damage if he lost control, but he’s not going to. He’s thoroughly mastered it, Ran. He’s really very impressive. One of the strongest bankai I’ve seen, truth be told. Even his shikai is really unusually strong. You’ll never have to worry about him in a fight, I promise. He is absolutely the equal of any other captain. Everyone is agreed that--”  
“What did you say?” Rangiku interrupted. “Gin, what did you just say? You don’t--you don’t--you--”  
Suddenly Gin was beside her with his arms around her. “He’s going to be alright, Ran. I promise,” he told her as he held her against his chest.  
“But he’s just a little boy!” Rangiku moaned. “Why would they let him--why--” Then she jerked back and yelled, “It’s your fault! You did this! You taught my baby to kill!”   
She slammed her fists against his chest again and again. “It’s your fault! It’s your fault! It’s your fault!”  
It took her awhile to realize he was answering her. All he said was, “I’m sorry,” over and over. As she yelled and called him names and hit him all he said was, “I’m sorry.” It was hard to keep up the same level of rage after that. Eventually she sank back, exhausted and miserable and whispered, “Why did you do this?”  
“I--” Gin took a deep breath. Why had he pushed Shiro so far? Once he could hide his reiatsu he was safe. He was a child; he didn’t need to know anything more. Somehow, though, it had felt necessary. He’d always felt like he had to keep pushing Shiro, like if he stopped even for a moment, something horrible was going to happen to the boy, like the only way he could ever be safe was if he was stronger than anyone--and that was both stupid and impossible. Shiro was amazing, but he couldn’t be trained out of being young, and as a shinigami, youth was one of the biggest disadvantages there was. “I--I don’t know, Ran. I’m sorry.”  
For a few minutes Rangiku was silent. First she looked at Gin, and he did look sorry, so very sorry, and that helped, and then she looked at the insane bouquet he had brought her. She thought about the ridiculous effort he must have gone to to get it for her. Their son had made captain. It should have been good news, and she had reacted like it was the very worst.  
“Am I supposed to be proud?” she asked softly.  
“I don’t know,” Gin answered. “I think you’re allowed to be annoyed, since your son is now your captain.”  
“Oh.” She hadn’t thought about that. The Tenth had been the only open division. Toshiro was her captain. Somehow, instead of annoying her, that was a little bit of a relief. At least she’d be able to keep an eye on him. “You don’t think he’ll demote me, do you?”  
“I think he has a better survival instinct than that,” Gin answered, smiling slightly.  
She smiled faintly. Then she said, “Sorry I hit you.”  
“I deserved it.”  
“Yes, you did,” she agreed. Then she added, “But I did sort of know you were training him, not bankai or anything so insane, but I did know you were doing something. I could have made you stop if I’d really wanted to. I guess I thought it was a good idea too.”  
Gin sat down on the bed beside her. “He’s incredible,” he told her. “He’s strong. His zanpakuto, Hyorinmaru, is an ice dragon, the strongest ice-type zanpakuto in centuries. He is going to be alright. I promise.”  
Rangiku nodded. “Can you tell him I want to see him?”  
“I’ll make sure he comes, just as soon as he’s done inspecting his new division.”  
“I finally get a new captain, and I’m not even there to meet him,” Rangiku said, trying to smile. “It's so like me.”  
“At least you’re not out with a hangover.”  
“Not this time anyway.” Then she giggled as something occurred to her. “You thought I drove poor Captain Isshin crazy; I’m going to drive Shiro-chan completely out of his mind.”  
“Poor Shiro,” Gin agreed.  
“It’s his own fault. He’s the one who wants to be captain.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

When Rangiku woke up in the late afternoon she was surprised to find Toshiro sitting in the seat beside her bed. He looked just like he always had, even the solemn expression was familiar, but the black shihakusho and the white captain’s haori were so wrong. She wanted to tell herself it wasn’t real, and he was just playing dress up, but it was real, and her little boy would probably never play dress up again in his life. Small as he was, and both the haori and shihakusho showed signs of recent hemming so as not to fall off, he was not a child anymore.  
“Don’t cry, Mom, please,” he said softly.  
She raised a hand to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I can’t help it. You’re supposed to be my baby, but all the sudden you’re my captain.”  
“People grow up all the time. It’s not something to cry about.”  
She forced a smile at that. “Shows what you know.”  
He frowned and looked away. “Do you want to be my lieutenant?” he asked awkwardly, not quite meeting her eyes.  
“What else am I going to do? You planning to send me to some other division?”  
“No, I just wasn’t sure--I thought maybe--you’re going to be out for a year with the new baby anyway. I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to come back.”  
Rangiku let out a short laugh. “That didn’t take you long.”  
“What didn’t take me long?”  
“You’ve been in the Gotei for a whole day and you’re already thinking like a man. I am not going to quit just because I'm a mother. I’m not breakable or delicate or in need of protection. I am just as strong as any other lieutenant and I expect to be treated like any other lieutenant, you got that, Shiro-chan?”  
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Shiro-chan?” he repeated.  
“You’re still my son,” Rangiku said stubbornly.  
“And you’re still my mom, but my lieutenant can’t call me Shiro-chan. No one will ever take me seriously if you do.”  
She wanted to tell him no one would ever take him seriously because he was barely four feet tall and weighed less than seventy pounds, but she managed to stop herself. “I’ll make you a deal,” she said finally. “I’ll call you ‘captain’ whenever we’re working and you can call me ‘lieutenant’ and in return, instead of living in the captain’s quarters you’ll live at home with your family, and I’ll be Mom and you’ll be Shiro-chan, and we can stay a family a little bit longer.”  
Toshiro frowned. “Captains don’t live at home with their parents,” he protested.  
“Most of the captains don’t have parents, and if they were still living, Captain Kuchiki would be living with his, but I’m not saying you need to live with us forever, just while you’re still growing up--in the whole rest of Seireitei you’re going to be one of the adults now, but you could come home and for a few hours every day you could be a kid and play with your brother and annoy your dad, and let your mom take care of you like moms are supposed to. Please, Captain, please just give me a few more years to be a proper mom.”  
“You’ll always call me ‘captain’ in front of the division?”  
She nodded.  
“And you’ll do what I tell you? You’ll take orders and say ‘yes, sir’ and everything?”  
“Yes, sir,” she agreed.  
“Seriously, not like a joke, but like you mean it?”  
“Captain, as your lieutenant it is my duty to support you in every way I can. I would never joke about you or do anything to denigrate you in the eyes of your men. I want nothing more than to see you succeed as the new captain of the Tenth Division--honestly, Shiro-chan, I will be the best possible lieutenant I can for you. Even if I really wish you hadn’t decided to do this I will always be one hundred percent on your side.”  
“I guess I already knew that,” Toshiro answered. “Look, I gotta go. I’ve got a ton of work to do at the division, but Dad said you really needed to see me, and he wouldn’t leave me alone--did you know he’s even more annoying as a fellow captain than as a dad? I think Kira’s right about him practicing. No one could be that irritating without trying.”  
Rangiku smiled. “I’m afraid your daddy’s not the only annoying person you’re going to have to deal with now. Just wait till it’s time for budget reviews, everyone starts avoiding you, and nearly everyone lies nonstop about why they went over budget, or lost the paperwork or just don’t have the time to talk to you about it, and the whole time the First Division bureaucrats are breathing down your neck, wanting to know what’s taking so long, but they insist that budget reviews and performance reviews need to be turned in the same month so there’s no possible way you can get either of them done on time.”  
“When’s that?” Toshiro asked.  
“December--I turned in the last of the officers’ reviews two weeks ago--and you don’t start the Academy graduate recruiting till March so you’ve got a whole two weeks to learn the division before you get to start figuring out who you’d like to add to it.”  
“When are you coming back?”  
“Day after tomorrow. I was supposed to go home today but after--Unohana just wants to keep an eye on me a little while longer--really, I’m fine,” she added quickly when she saw how worried he was starting to look. “I’m going to go home and lay around the house all day tomorrow, and I’ll be back at work bright and early on Monday.”  
“That’s before noon, right?”  
Rangiku sighed. “You’re going to want me to come in on time every day, aren’t you? Such a slave driver.”  
Toshiro stood up. “Only if you’re really feeling ok. You gotta take care of yourself, ok?”  
“Yes, Captain,” she agreed.  
Toshiro smiled. It hadn’t sounded like a joke. She’d actually sounded like she was speaking to a real captain--which he was, obviously, but it was nice to hear her sound like she was taking him seriously. “I’ll see you at work, Lieutenant,” he answered.


	52. Chapter 52

The only person who wasn’t surprised by how well and how easily Ichimaru Toshiro was taking over the Tenth was Toshiro himself. He, personally, was surprised by how hard everyone seemed to think it would be. He knew the Tenth inside and out, having spent a large percentage of his life there, and, if anyone had noticed, most of that time had been spent around the people who were running the place. He wondered how they thought he could spend so much time following around his parents, both lieutenants, and then a captain, and not know how a division was supposed to be run.  
Not to mention, he’d seen a lot of how not to do things, both in the Third’s difficult transition to having a captain after nearly a century without and in his mother’s struggles to run the Tenth after they lost theirs. It hadn’t been hard to see his parents’ mistakes while watching from a comfortable distance, and he found a comfortable middle ground between his father’s ‘I really don’t give a damn who you are or what your problem is’ and his mother’s “I love every one of you and want nothing more than to help you’.  
For those that thought they shouldn’t have to listen to a cute little kid there were immediate and severe consequences. The Eighth Seat made the mistake of saying, “In a minute, Shiro-chan, I’m busy,” when Toshiro asked him to give him a report on the first year shinigami he had overseen on a short term Rukongai mission, and learned that his next assignment would be as a volunteer assisting R&D on their live subject tests--it was not the deadly assignment it had once been, but still fairly terror inducing for most of the Gotei.   
An unranked member who actually laughed at Toshiro when he was given an order, was immediately reassigned to the Third Division where, Toshiro promised him, the captain thought his orders were just as humorous as the man seemed to find Toshiro’s. The man had dropped to his knees to beg forgiveness when Toshiro turned to his lieutenant and told her that he hoped she would ask Captain Ichimaru, as a personal favor to him, that he find something really amusing for this humor-loving transferee to do.  
Toshiro never found out what his father did to the man, but Gin did tell him to feel free to send more gifts any time he felt like it, and rumors were whispered around the Tenth for weeks about the poor man’s fate.  
The first real excitement after he became captain came the second month he was there. Rangiku was out on the practice grounds with the new recruits, going over shikai with some of the most advanced.  
Toshiro heard shouts and smelled smoke at the same moment. He rushed outside to find all the buildings on the east side of the practice grounds on fire. Flames were eagerly devouring the flimsy paper walls and licking up the wooden beams. He could hear the fire alarms sounding but the division’s fire response team seemed to be taking their time.  
“Of all the--” Toshiro broke off when he saw his mother had turned away from the flames to watch him. They’d had a bit of a disagreement about whether he should show the division members his actual skill with a zanpakuto. He thought they could take the general’s word for it that he knew what he was doing; she thought a little bit of a show might help for those who remembered him as a toddler and still had trouble seeing him as anything else. So she had apparently taken things into her own hands--he wondered where she’d sent the fire responders that they were taking so long.  
He pulled Hyorinmaru from the sheath on his back and called out, “Reign over the Frosted Heavens!” And a wave of ice rushed forth, coating the building in ice and quenching the fire in an instant.  
Everyone within sight stopped and looked back and forth between the captain and the frozen building. It was a shikai that could not help but impress, but for some reason the awe and amazement on their faces still annoyed him.  
He quickly sheathed Hyorinmaru and started across the grounds toward Rangiku. “What happened, Lieutenant?” he demanded.  
“Kaori’s shikai went out of control,” Rangiku answered, barely managing to look apologetic at all. “It was my fault. I should have had a barrier ready.”  
“I want a report on why the fire response team failed to respond in time and a detailed plan to make sure they will be able to respond more quickly in the future by the end of the week. I shouldn’t have to come put out fires every time there's an accident.”  
Rangiku frowned, realizing she’d just earned herself a ton of pointless work. “Yes sir,” she answered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Gin didn't respond until after the third knock. It was Kira's day off and Gin’s theory of captaining included the belief that if someone was unimportant enough to actually wait for him to tell them they could come in then they probably weren't important enough to talk to, but three knocks meant they were also probably stubborn enough they weren’t going to leave him alone. So, sadly, he gave up on his nap and sat up, calling out, “Come in.”  
He could not remember the name of the girl who entered though he knew her by sight. She was one of the most attractive women in the division. She had the young and innocent look down pat, with wide brown eyes she liked to blink slowly as she looked up at him, all naive and trusting, and always said, “Yes, Captain,” sounding like she would do anything he asked of her. He wasn’t sure if it was real or an act. On the one hand she was just a couple years out of the Academy, on the other she was a niece or some such of Shihoin Yoruichi, and it seemed unlikely innocent was in the family vocabulary.  
She stepped into the room with her head bowed modestly, large, sincere brown eyes looking up through feathered bangs. “Captain Ichimaru,” she said, as she carefully closed the door behind her. “I wonder if I might speak to you for a moment.”  
“What is it--” What was her name? Gin was at a loss. She was the ninth seat and was better than middling with kido but still having trouble with her shikai, but her name—he probably shouldn’t have taken to calling her ‘Bunny’ in his head. It was her own fault for having such nice, bouncy breasts, even if they were nothing compared to Rangiku’s.  
“It’s just that I heard,” the girl began, as she crossed the room, moving in an only fair imitation of Rangiku’s most seductive walk. “That Fifth Seat Igarashi is moving to the Seventh, and I thought that I might ask you to consider me as his replacement.”  
“Oh?” Was Gin’s only reply as the girl sat on the couch beside him. That was hardly appropriate, but he was beginning to realize the girl had no intention of being appropriate. How odd. He’d heard of girls who offered sexual favors for advancement in the Gotei, but he’d never actually come across it before himself. He’d really thought he was far too unapproachable to have to worry about anything like it. After all, the most common adjective people used to describe him was ‘creepy’. He supposed the girl had the nerve because she was from one of the Four Great Houses; had he forgotten to assign her toilet cleaning duty like he did to most nobles?  
“I have been working so hard, Captain,” she said, sincerely. “And I would do anything to advance, I would. It’s my dream to serve you, Captain, as one of your senior officers. I admire you so much.”  
The girl was leaning forward, just like Rangiku always did, to put her assets on the best possible display, but unlike Rangiku, she kept her chin down, somehow managing to retain her appearance of youthful innocence while posing seductively.  
Gin smiled. Really, this was a very interesting and unexpected turn of events. He’d never had a toy quite like this one. He wondered how he might make the best use of it. “I do like being served by my admirers,” he answered. “It’s so much better than when my officers hate me. They really tend to whine, but you would never do that, would you--?” Damn it, why couldn’t he remember her name?  
“No, sir, never. I would never complain. I would be honored whatever you ask of me. After all, the only reason I’m here is to obey your every command, to do whatever you wish.” She set one small hand on his thigh and raised her head like she was offering him her mouth.  
“Would you really?” Gin asked. Even Kira was careful never to offer Gin whatever he wanted; what Gin might come up with was far too terrifying a prospect. This girl really hadn’t been paying attention. “Anything?”  
“Yes, Captain,” she said, sliding her hand up his thigh--that really was completely inappropriate--and leaned her body into his. “Anything.”  
“Then tell me your name because I can’t, for the life of me, remember it,” he told her, smiling hugely. An amusing toy she might be, but he really couldn’t afford it at the moment. If he tried to string her along for a while Rangiku would probably murder him; she wouldn’t care that he hadn’t actually done anything with the mood she’d been in lately--or even worse, she might cry. No, he had to get rid of this girl as thoroughly as possible. “And it won’t be nearly as much fun to tell Rangiku about this if I have to call you ‘Bunny.’ That’s the sort of thing she never finds as funny as I do.”  
The girl had jumped to her feet almost as soon as he started talking, and by the time he was done she was glowing with fury. “You were leading me on!” she accused.  
“Was I?” Gin asked, his smile only growing. “I really don’t understand how. You have seen my wife, haven’t you? How could you think I’d ever find the need to look elsewhere for sex?”  
The girl made a disgusted face. “That woman? She’s enormous,” she scoffed.  
Gin grinned. “Enormously pregnant,” he said. “And I am sorry, Bunny-chan, but you’re just never going to compare. You, precious as you are, are never going to get any sort of rise out of me.”  
The girl’s eyes filled with angry tears. “You--you are a horrible man!” she shouted at him.  
Gin’s smile grew even bigger. “Hadn’t anyone told you that? I am going to have to talk to Kira about properly educating the new recruits. Tell you what, since you missed that memo I’m going to do you a favor and transfer you to the Second Division so you won’t have to have a horrible man for your captain any more. How does that sound?”  
The girl turned on her heels and marched out of the room, still glowing with fury.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“She’s right,” Rangiku said. “You are horrible.”  
Gin shook his head, trying to stop laughing. “What was I supposed to do? Sleep with her? I suppose I could have, but what fun would it have been without you there?”  
Rangiku rolled her eyes. “You were supposed to tell her that all advancements in your division are given based on merit and if she really wants to move up she’ll focus more on improving her actual abilities and less on trying to seduce her superiors.”  
“What fun would that be? I really did want to think of some way to lead her on for a bit, but I couldn’t think of anything. It’s not something that’s ever come up before--I would like to believe that it’s because I’m so obviously above that sort of thing, but I’ve been offered all sorts of other bribes. My very favorite thing to do is play dumb and accept the bribe as a gift, and then act offended if they have the guts to explain that they’re trying to bribe me. It’s so much fun and I almost always get to keep the ‘gift’--I wonder why no one else has offered me sex,” he said, thoughtfully. Then he added, “It’s really hard on a man’s ego, knowing that most women wouldn’t even sleep with him for a promotion.”  
“Maybe they know you wouldn’t live long enough to actually make the promotion happen,” Rangiku said. “You might have noticed ‘Bunny’ waited until I’m completely incapacitated to make her move.” She braced both of her arms on the couch to shift her position just to make the point. She was very pregnant, and since Toshiro's vanishing act had been forced to take it easy. She’d had to stop working at thirty-two weeks, and Unohana was threatening to put her on bed rest.  
“Too true,” Gin agreed. “Poor thing didn't realize you're even more terrifying pregnant. If I was going to cheat on you I'd certainly wait until you're in a better mood.”  
Rangiku glared at him. “Good to know,” she said icily.  
“But when you are in a good mood I have to spend all my time making sure none of the good-looking young men of Seireitei try to make a move on my ridiculously sexy wife. You're absolutely irresistible when you laugh--the way you throw back your head and your breasts bounce and threaten to burst out of your shihakusho--I do feel sorry for them, being able to look but not touch, but I'm still not going to share.”  
Rangiku burst out laughing. “You're such a liar!” she accused, laughing even harder at the idea that she was still so desirable. “No one thinks of me like that any--”  
But Gin dropped abruptly onto the couch beside her, and he was pressing heated kisses down the length of her neck, as he repeated, “Absolutely irresistible.”  
“Maybe to you,” she answered a little breathlessly.  
“To every man who’s ever laid eyes on you,” he argued, and that was pretty much the end of the conversation.


	53. Chapter 53

Gin sat up with a sudden cry, startling himself back to the conscious world. He stared around the dark room, taking in the familiar aura of peace and quiet of their bedroom at night.

A dream, it had only been a dream.

He rubbed his face with his hands, trying to drive away the visions of a nightmare world his mind had created. The gaping loneliness that had overwhelmed every other feeling as he walked the dead world that was Hueco Mundo was painfully familiar, a reminder of the time before Rangiku, a time that did not exist as far as he was concerned. Life had begun the day they met. That time before--he shivered.

“Gin?” Rangiku’s voice whispered, and he felt her hand against his back, stroking gently. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he answered.

“Another nightmare?”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, getting abruptly to his feet.

“Don’t leave,” she called after him.

Gin froze. Don’t leave--how much time did they have left? Aizen had found the Hogyoku, trapped in poor little Kuchiki Rukia’s soul. A timeline that had once been measured in decades had dwindled to a few months. If everything went as well as it possibly could he would still be leaving Rangiku forever in a few more months.

If he succeeded and, even more unlikely, survived, he knew he still wouldn't be coming back. He would still be a monster, destroying a bigger one wouldn't change that. Rangiku would finally understand, and she would finally be done with him. And just like his life had started the moment she entered it, his life would end the moment she left. Whether his heart would continue to beat was immaterial. Any existence without her was death.

He turned back to her, knowing he shouldn't; he wasn't calm enough to hide his fear from her. He shouldn't let her see it. She couldn't understand, and it would worry her. But he was like an addict, he couldn't resist one more hit.

He dropped down onto the futon and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest.

“Gin,” he heard her whisper. “Please tell me what's wrong.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku was sick to death of the constant contractions. She’d been on bed rest because of them for four long weeks, and she had another damned three weeks until this baby was due. It was like the hours of labor had been stretched out over weeks, so it was slower and less agonizing, but still miserable and god-awful boring.

It was the middle of the day, but she was sitting in the tub. Baths did wonders for the aches and pains of laying around and being harassed by contractions all day. Sometimes the bath would even make them stop for a while, and she could get some real rest, but not today. Today they were just getting worse, and worse, and worse. If they didn’t give it a rest soon she was going to have someone from the Fourth come and check her out. Maybe it was early labor; wouldn’t that be nice?

After an hour in the lovely heated tub with jacuzzi jets--bless Kurotsuchi’s black heart for bringing such a wonder to Seireitei--she was pretty sure it was early labor. It was much less unpleasant than she remembered it being. She’d read a book that said humans had started having water births, but she’d never really considered it herself until that moment.

Now she just didn’t want to get out. She sighed and leaned back against the padded headrest; Kurotsuchi really had outdone himself trying to get back in the good graces of the Shinigami Women’s Association. It had to be the most comfortable tub she’d ever been in. Maybe she could close her eyes and get a little rest before she had to call Unohana.

After a while, she really wasn’t sure how long, the contractions were starting to get seriously uncomfortable, and Rangiku realized that she really was going to have to do something about it.

A few minutes later she was relieved to hear the front door open. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything after all. Then she heard Gin’s voice calling out, “Oi, Ran, where have you gotten to?”

“I’m in the--” she broke off there as a particularly insistent contraction took over her attention.

“What are you doing in the bath?” Gin asked as he slid open the bathroom door.

“It’s comfortable,” Rangiku answered as soon as she was able to catch her breath.

“Did you know Kin-chan was on the roof? Because he was; someone noticed him from an upstairs window; he was having a picnic on the roof.”

“That’s nice,” Rangiku answered, shifting in the tub because, really, labor wasn’t comfortable even in a nice warm bath.

“I made him get down and he’s agreed to wait for you for any future roof picnics--really, though, Ran, it’s two in the afternoon; why are you taking a bath?”

“It’s not a bath; it’s a water birth,” she informed him.

It was not often she managed to shock Gin into silence, but this time she had succeeded brilliantly. He stood in the doorway staring at her for a solid minute and might well have continued to do so, but Kinta stuck his head in and said, “Mommy, can I use the paints?”

“Could you take them outside, baby?” Rangiku answered. “You don’t want to get paint on the floor.”

“Ok, Mommy,” Kinta answered, happily, and vanished.

“I’m sorry, Ran,” Gin said, “I think I must have misheard you a minute ago. What did you say you were doing in the bath?”

“I said it’s not a bath.” She paused for a moment to take a few slow, deep breaths and reminded herself she’d done this twice before. She had a feeling she was getting to the panic stage of labor, but it really was just stupid. She could do this; she knew she could. In a few hours she’d have a new baby, and it’d all be worth it. “It’s a water birth.”

“What’s a water--Ran, are you--you can’t have the baby yet! It’s not due for three more weeks!”

“And when did our kids wait for that?” she asked.

“This time,” he answered quickly. “This time the baby’s going to wait. I’m sure you’re just having more of those pre-labor contractions, and the bath’s making it seem worse. Look, I’ll give you a hand; you need to get out of the bath.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Rangiku demanded when Gin came up to the tub and tried to take her by the arm. He had yet to be good about her having a baby, but this was ridiculous. “I’m not getting out. I need you to contact Unohana and tell her the baby’s coming, and then I need you to get ahold of Miyako so she can come take Kin-chan--” Her breath caught and she forced herself to draw in one long slow breath before releasing it.

“I’ll get Unohana to stop it like she did before,” Gin said, quickly. “It’ll be fine. It--”

He broke off when Rangiku’s hand caught hold of his wrist, squeezing so tight it was actually painful. His eyes went to her face, and the drawn, focused expression that slowly shifted to outright pained.

Rangiku groaned softly as that one passed. She hadn’t meant to. Gin was really bad at seeing her in pain, and it’d been years since she’d let him see her hurt. A single curse when she stubbed her toe or banged her head was absolutely all she allowed herself.

She needed him to leave, right now, she needed him to leave and get Unohana so she could have this baby without worrying about her husband panicking. Only she was feeling a little panicked herself. The contractions were escalating way too fast. She couldn’t have a baby by herself in the bath.

“I’ve changed my mind,” she announced abruptly. “I need you to get me out of the water.”

“What?” Gin demanded. “Ran, what’s wrong?”

“I need--” Another contraction cut her off and it was a minute before she could tell him. “Help me out of the bath, now. Gin, please--” She clenched her teeth to keep from moaning again.

“Rangiku!” He thrust his arms into the water and lifted her easily, not even noticing that he drenched himself in the tub’s water. She twisted in his arms as a contraction tore through her, and all he could do was hold on to her.

“Put me down, put me down!” she ordered frantically. “Just on the ground! Put me down!”

As he knelt, setting her as gently as he could onto the wet stone floor, Kinta reappeared in the doorway.

“I got paint in my nose,” the boy announced. “It smells funny.”

Gin, half-holding Rangiku against his chest, looked up at the boy, who was unsurprisingly covered head to toe in paint, and shouted, “Go tell Kira the baby is coming, and we need help!”

Kinta’s eyes were suddenly the size of saucers. “The baby’s coming? I want to see!”

“No!” his parents shouted in unison.

He looked very disappointed, but he did vanish from the doorway.

Gin stared after him for a second. “Maybe I’d better call them,” he said, but when he tried to let Rangiku go, she grabbed hold of him.

“Don’t you dare leave me!”

“I won’t. I just need a second to send--”

“Don’t leave me!” Rangiku repeated, clutching as tight as she could to his arms. “Please, please, Gin!”

“I won’t! I promise, Ran. I promise I will stay right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Lieutenant Kotetsu arrived five minutes later, trailed by a young division member who was very excited to attend her first birth, but when they entered the house they found it almost silent. They followed the sound of soft voices to the bathroom.

There on the wet stone floor Rangiku lay, leaning back against her husband’s chest, his arms around her as she snuggled a small, towel wrapped bundle against her chest. A cotton kimono had been slung over her, but it was damp and stuck to her wet skin, and Gin was also thoroughly soaked, but they both looked perfectly content, staring down at the infant on Rangiku’s chest.

Gin raised his head and smiled at the two women from the Fourth. “You’re late,” he said softly. “Our daughter came just fine without you.”

The lieutenant smiled. “I’m glad to hear that, sir.” She stepped into the small space beside the tub and knelt down beside them.

“May I see her for a moment, Rangiku-san?” The lieutenant asked as she carefully lifted the newborn from her mother’s arms.

She was smaller and thinner than Kinta had been, three weeks early made a difference, but she stared up at Kotetsu with a cautious look very reminiscent of her oldest brother as the healer made a quick examination. She was as pale as Toshiro with the same feathery white hair, but she didn’t feel cold. “She’s beautiful,” Kotetsu told Rangiku as she surrendered her to her mother. “Have you got a name for her yet?”

“Yukiko,” Gin answered. “Nice and simple and to the point, don’t you think?” 

“And perfect,” Rangiku added. “Absolutely perfect.”


	54. Chapter 54

Sooner or later most of the senior officers of the Gotei visited Rangiku and her new baby. Toshiro’s, “Are you done now that you have a girl?” Was probably the least enthusiastic reaction to Yukiko. Kinta, on the other hand, was thrilled and held her every chance he got. He was also working very hard to teach her that his name was ‘nii-chan’ despite being told more than once that there was no way a newborn was going to learn his name, and Toshiro knocking him over the head when he realized his little brother was trying to steal his title.

Miyako was over immediately to take Kinta and back the next day to help out, though Gin wanted to know what part of sitting around and gossiping was helping out, and Rangiku in turn wanted to know what part of sitting in his study was helping out as he’d taken the day off and she’d only seen him when he came out to complain about her friend.

“I’m very helpful,” he told her and lifted the baby from her shoulder. “Come here, Yuki-chan,” he said to the baby as he laid her against his shoulder and patted her back. “Let’s see how you like The Annals of Seireitei. They were always guaranteed to put your brothers to sleep.’’

Rangiku watched Gin leave in surprise. Even at his best, newborns really weren’t his thing, but by the third one she supposed even he must have gotten used to them.

She shrugged it off and turned to Miyako. “When are you finally going to have one of your own?”

“I already have my own man, thanks,” Miyako said. Then, when Rangiku continued to stare at her, she added, “When it’s my own idea--honestly, Rangiku, your questions are a relief after all the little hints every member of the Shiba family feels necessary to make at every possible opportunity. We’ll get to it someday, and until then the whole family can live with the terror of knowing Kukaku and Ganju are Kaien’s only heirs.”

Rangiku smiled at that. What excellent choices that would leave the family with! No wonder they were desperate for Miyako to have a child. Otherwise, their options were a hotheaded explosives expert who’d managed to blow off her own arm or a hotheaded idiot who liked to ride around on a boar. They’d definitely gotten the best of the siblings in Kaien.

“You should think about showing them a little mercy—what would they do if they ended up with Ganju?”

Miyako smiled. “It’d serve them right—now, I’m going to go make you a healthy lunch and you take a nice long nap—gotta take advantage of Gin’s mood since we all know it’s not going to last.”

“You never know,” Rangiku said. “Maybe he’s decided babies can be fun.”

Miyako raised an eyebrow and Rangiku sighed. “He may last half an hour before he’s bored out of his mind.”

“Try to sleep—I’ll take her when he’s done proving he’s useful.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Yachiru was the next visitor. She arrived with Yumichika in tow, carrying her gifts for both mother and child. “Hey, Goldilocks!” she declared as she hopped up onto the porch and stepped into the house. “Heard it’s another snowflake.”

She stepped closer to get a good look at the baby asleep against her mother’s breast. “Yep, another one. Think this one will grow up frosty too?”

Rangiku smiled at the too pale infant. “Shiro-chan was always cold. Yuki’s nice and warm like babies are supposed to be.”

“Huh,” Yachiru said, then she added with much more enthusiasm, “We brought cake! I made Yu-yu and Pachinko-head get it for you from the World of the Living. It’s chocolate! Do you want to eat it now?”

“You did? Absolutely! Thank you, Yachiru, Yu-chan! You’ve got to tell Ikkaku thank you from me! It’s so nice of you all!”

“Since we heard a bottle of sake isn’t a proper gift for a new mother,” Yumichika said.

“Go cut everyone a piece of cake, Yu-yu!” Yachiru commanded. “And give me that other present!”

Yumichika did as instructed, having learned from experience that keeping Yachiru happy was of prime importance and obedience was the best way to accomplish that.

Yachiru sat on the floor next to the couch beside Rangiku with a pink wrapped present on her lap. “I’ll open it for you since you’ve got your hands full,” she declared, quickly tearing the paper away. She opened the box and pulled off the lid, revealing some sort of fluffy pink plush animal that was squeezed so tightly into the box Rangiku couldn’t identify it.

“Isn’t it perfect?” Yachiru demanded.

“Uh, thank you?” Rangiku tried.

Yachiru yanked it from the box, and Rangiku could finally tell what it was, an extremely fluffy nine-tailed fox. It was no wonder she hadn’t been able to identify it; it was more tail than fox.

A huge smile spread across her face. “You’re right! It is perfect!”

“I’m glad you finally got a girl,” Yachiru told her. “But I hope you’re done having kids ‘cause the lieutenants’ meetings are no fun without you. Dustmop never loses his place anymore, and the Princess hasn’t smacked the Idiot over the head for staring at your boobs in months--she’s hardly smacked him at all! Married people are so boring when they’re getting along.”

“Fortunately that’s a rare occurrence anywhere,” Yumichika declared as he returned with tea and cake for everyone. “Speaking of which, where has your fox-faced other half vanished to this time? Lieutenant Kira told us he would be here.”

Rangiku frowned. That was so like Gin. They had a two-day-old, and he was already back to vanishing. “Don't know, don’t care,” she said quickly. “More cake for me.”

“Well, here you go, dear,” Yumichika said, handing over a small plate with a generous slice of chocolate cake. “And I know you don’t need me to tell you, but you have produced yet another exquisite child. This one might be the most beautiful of all.”

“The most beautiful? I think they’re all beautiful.”

“But this one has your eyes.”

“How can you--” Rangiku looked down. The sleeping baby was no longer sleeping but blinking wide blue eyes at her. “Oh.”

Yuki turned her face to her mother and nuzzled against her, making the funniest little mewling sound.

“Damn, baby gets to eat first,” Rangiku declared and passed back the plate to Yumichika. It was a hard thing to return to, feedings and diapers and no sleep--at least Yuki was cute.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Nemu came with Nanao to visit and sat very still holding the infant without saying anything at all while Rangiku and Nanao discussed childbirth and the difficulties of newborns.

“Shuhei wanted to come along,” Nanao explained. “But the nanny’s off today, and I thought Aiko would be too much trouble. She’s always following Kin-chan around.” Nanao glanced at Kinta, who was sitting on the porch with a box full of frogs he had caught that morning. “It seemed better if he stayed at home with her, but he did want me to send his congratulations. We are both very happy for you, Rangiku. Oh, and the captain as well; he said it was high time you had a girl, and he hopes she grows up to be even half as beautiful as you.”

“I have decided we will have twin boys,” Nemu said, apropo of nothing. “With white hair and brown eyes exactly like Shiro-chan’s. They will be quite beautiful.”

“What?” Rangiku demanded.

Nanao also was quite startled by Nemu’s declaration. “Are you--you’re not pregnant, are you, Nemu?”

“Oh, no,” Nemu answered, finally raising her dark eyes from the baby’s sleeping face. “But I have discussed it with my father. I have promised him that I will allow him to help design my children if he will develop a treatment for Shiro-chan. I know my father will have no difficulty finding a way to make Shiro-chan’s lungs repair themselves, even if he cannot cure the illness itself; I only had to find the proper motivation. He won’t do anything he doesn’t want to, and he does not care how Shiro-chan suffers. I have begged and pleaded with him, but he would not try. I am sure he is the most callous and uncaring person in the Gotei.”

“You’re going to let Kurotsuchi design your children?” Rangiku said in horror. She could understand Nemu’s desperation, but allowing that monster to create innocent babies--it was unthinkable.

“I cannot believe Captain Ukitake would agree to that, Nemu,” Nanao said.

“Within reasonable boundaries,” Nemu said. “I have convinced Shiro-chan to allow it as long as I make sure my father follows our rules. The children will be made purely of our DNA. My father can pick and choose the best of our genes as he likes, but he cannot add anything; they will be our children, and they will not be grown in a laboratory. I will grow them and give birth to them naturally. They will be our children, only perfect. It is a reasonable deal, is it not? My father thought the rules were too strict until I pointed out to him that he would get to be a grandfather, and that is clearly an envied position throughout Soul Society. Captain Kyoraku brags constantly about Aiko. I am sure my father would like such an excuse to brag.”

Nanao stared open-mouthed at Nemu as Rangiku struggled to find something to say. It was hard to know what to say. She could understand her desperation. Watching Captain Ukitake grow weaker and struggle harder every day simply to breathe was hard enough for Rangiku, it must be like a waking nightmare for Nemu. But to sacrifice her children to the whims of the mad scientist, even if she was going to watch him, seemed far too risky—the thing that scared her most was the fact that she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t do the same for Gin if the only other choice was to watch him die. “Are you sure you can make sure Captain Kurotsuchi doesn’t—you know—“

“Modify them?” Nemu asked. Her eyes dropped to the baby in her arms. “I will have to watch him very carefully, but I am sure I am up to the task.”

Nanao spoke up. “Nemu, you know you aren’t very good at keeping him within the lines. You’ve told me before about experiments he has conducted that you did not like but did not feel you could object to. You’ve even allowed him to do things to you that are completely unethical. Are you sure you could stop him if he thinks he has found a way to make your children into perfect shinigami?”

Nemu raised her head. “I’ve promised Jushiro so I will,” she said firmly.

Nanao nodded. “I do understand, and I hope Captain Kurotsuchi will be able to help Captain Ukitake. I know my captain, at least, would be beside himself with joy if Captain Ukitake were to regain any degree of good health.”

“Everyone would be,” Rangiku said firmly. “Even Gin. Even he doesn't like to see Captain Ukitake suffering like he has been, and he never bothers to care about anyone.”

Nemu smiled her always soft, shy smile. “It is a comfort to know he is loved by so many.” Her smile grew a little sad as she continued. “He has told me that it has always been enough for him, that he has never had to be alone, and in all his life he has never felt lonely or unloved; even if his time will soon be over he would have nothing to complain about because he has had the most blessed of lives.”

“And I’m sure you’re a big part of that, Nemu,” Rangiku added, but she couldn’t help thinking of her own husband who was so completely Captain Ukitake’s opposite. She wondered if there had ever been a time when he had not separated himself from everyone and chosen to be alone. Even when he was home he kept himself separate from his family. It was why Toshiro never even tried to get close to him; he could feel the wall Gin always kept between himself and others.

She had always wondered if he felt lonely or if it bothered him at all that almost no one cared about him. She tried constantly to show him her love, but she was never quite sure if he felt it. Captain Ukitake had endured centuries of illness with a smile because the love of friends and family kept him going, but Gin, with his smile that was a lie, always pushing everyone, even Shiro-chan, away, had nothing but his own strength to sustain him. In the end his life might be considered the greater tragedy.


	55. Chapter 55

Rangiku watched Yuki rock back and forth in the strange baby swing from the World of the Living. The baby’s pale blue eyes were focused intently on the flashing colored lights that seemed to only vaguely follow the same rhythm as the music that flowed from the speaker. Rangiku had thought the thing was an atrocity until Yuki fell asleep in it only minutes after she turned it on for the first time. Now she loved it more than any other thing that had ever come from the World of the Living.

“Do you ever get an awful feeling that something is terribly wrong, but you can’t begin to figure out what it is?” she asked Miyako.

“I feel pretty certain I know what’s wrong at the moment,” Miyako answered.

Rangiku’s frown grew at that. “That’s not all that’s wrong,” she said. “Poor Rukia, it’s hard to believe her own brother brought her in, but I’m sure he’ll work it all out for her, don’t you think?”

Miyako nodded. “I’m sure he will, for Hisana’s sake,” she said and if there was something uncertain in her tone Rangiku didn’t notice.

“But Shiro-chan suddenly making captain? I didn’t know he had a zanpakuto six months ago and all of a sudden he’s my captain? I knew there were things he wasn’t telling me, but isn’t that going a bit too far? And he hasn’t explained why, not really, why he kept it all so secret while he was training and then just decided to become a captain with no warning at all.”

“He’s like his dad,” Miyako offered. “He likes to keep things to himself and make his own decisions. It’s how he’s always been. He didn’t hurt you, did he, Rangiku-chan? You know he didn’t hide it from you because he didn’t trust you or anything like that, don’t you?”

“I know,” Rangiku agreed. “And it was Gin’s decision to keep me in the dark all this time. I just get the feeling that Shiro-chan may know why. And he knows what’s happening or maybe he’s like me and feels like something is wrong. Maybe that’s why he decided to make captain all the sudden.” 

“Are you sure you’re not imagining things?” Miyako asked.

Rangiku bit her lip. She wasn't entirely sure what she should share. She was afraid for Gin. Something was wrong; she was sure of it, but she wasn't even quite sure what was bothering her. It was more than anything a feeling. 

“Gin’s having nightmares,” she said, locking onto one concrete fact that was worrying her.

“Lots of shinigami have nightmares,” Miyako answered, smiling a little at Rangiku's concern. “Sometimes we see some pretty awful things. It's really not surprising when our minds get focused on the worst. Unohana has some very effective remedies.”

Rangiku shook her head. “He's never had nightmares before. He’s always slept better than me. Something's wrong. I think he's in trouble. He's worried, no, he's afraid of something, and I can't figure out what it is.”

Miyako frowned. She knew that Gin had been in trouble for a very long time, but telling Rangiku that now wouldn't help anything. They had agreed telling Rangiku would be a bad idea after Kaien had spoken to Gin. There was no way Rangiku could hear something like that and not do something about it. Patience was not a skill even having children had managed to teach her. She would want to fight, but that, according to Gin, at least, would be suicide.

“Don’t you think you’re making a lot out of a few bad dreams?” Miyako said, although she had already decided to tell Kaien about Rangiku’s fears. Maybe whatever it was that Gin had only vaguely warned them about was finally going to happen. That might even explain the arrest of Rukia and the strangeness surrounding it. Rangiku was at least right that something was wrong somewhere.

Rangiku’s eyes went to the baby, now asleep in her swing. “It’s not just that,” she said. She didn’t know how to explain what exactly had changed. He looked at the children differently, not much, but just a little, like he was paying more attention. He actually listened when Kin-chan spoke to him, and with Yuki-- “He holds Yuki all the time,” she said. “Whenever she’s awake, he has her with him. He doesn’t say anything; he just picks her up. I thought he was just trying to be helpful because she’s so fussy, but I don’t--something’s wrong.”

“Maybe it’s just because she’s a girl,” Miyako said, despite the chill Rangiku’s description sent down her spine. If Gin was actually going to an effort to be with his daughter, was it because he didn’t think he’d have much longer with her? “I’ve heard some daddies are like that.”

Rangiku shook her head. She didn't know how to explain what she was feeling. It was awful. Gin was terrified of something, and he wouldn't explain what it was. He wasn't even willing to admit something was wrong. 

“He’s always had things going on,” she said softly, as one hot tear after another escaped her eyes. “Always, as long as I’ve known him. He never tells me where he’s going or what he’s doing. In Rukongai, he would go and do whatever it took to get food and money. Most of it was illegal, I guess, and sometimes he got hurt, but he didn’t want me to know, so I didn’t ask. I thought here, we have food, money, everything we need, so it should be better. He shouldn't have to, but he still leaves; he’s just gone, and I know--I know--he’s doing things that aren’t right, and sometimes it’s dangerous, and he comes back hurt--he tries to hide it from me but--and now he’s afraid. He’s so afraid. Every time he leaves he’s thinking, is this the last time? I can see it in his eyes.” Rangiku brought her hands to her face and wiped away her tears. “He doesn’t want me to know what’s wrong. He’d rather die than let me get involved, because it is--it’s something awful that he’s been doing, and he wants me safe, but I can’t--I can’t lose him, Miyako. He thinks I’m going to be ok without him, but I’m not--I can’t--not without him.”

Miyako drew a deep breath. She’d often wondered how much Rangiku noticed of her husband’s strange habits. She’d thought perhaps it was some sort of willful ignorance, but Rangiku did know; she’d always known. She had simply loved him anyway. “I’ll try to get Kaien to talk to him,” Miyako offered. “Maybe he’ll listen to another man. Kaien is probably the closest thing he’s got to a real friend anyway. Who knows, Gin might even let Kaien help him. He wouldn’t worry about Kaien getting hurt if he were to get involved.”

“I don’t want to put Kaien in danger,” Rangiku said softly.

Miyako forced a smile to her face. “He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.”

“Thank you,” Rangiku whispered.


	56. Chapter 56

“Have you found what Urahara sent Kyoraku?” Aizen asked as he walked quickly along a path in the dark forest of southern Rukongai.

Gin glanced at Tosen, walking at his side. The question was clearly meant for him. He was the one who had connections to the Eighth and its captain. Even if Gin had been the one to hear about the package sent from Urahara Soten to Kyoraku the day after Kuchiki Rukia was dragged home in chains, he really had no means of discovering the package’s contents. His early attempts at spying on the Eighth Division captain had always led to immediate discovery and invitations to drinks, and Gin had eventually given up trying.

“A bottle of Russian Vodka,” Tosen said shortly. “Hisagi-kun was there when he opened it.” That was also thanks to Gin, whose quick thinking had led him to let Tosen know about the package in time for him to give his lieutenant the rest of the day off--which the ever-predictable lieutenant had spent with his daughter and her doting jii-chan. Kyoraku just as predictably decided to open his package with an audience to make envious.

“Just a bottle?” Gin said. “No note? How odd.”

Tosen was silent for a moment. “I believe there was a message of some kind. Hisagi-kun was evasive, and he is never evasive. Kyoraku may have sworn him to secrecy. I did not press him further about the package because I did not wish to appear unusually interested. I think we must find another way to learn what it was Urahara thought necessary to tell Kyoraku.”

“Well,” Gin said, smiling. “Isn’t it obvious? He must have told Old Kyoraku to save Rukia-chan.”

“Kyoraku has taken no actions at all according to you,” Tosen pointed out.

“ ‘Course he hasn’t. He’s a careful one, Kyoraku is, and he doesn’t trust Urahara any more than he trusts the rest of us. He’s going to wait and see, careful like, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Nanao-chan starts paying social visits to all her best friends. It’s too bad Rangiku’s out of the loop. They won’t want to worry her with the new baby and all, otherwise I’d be able to tell you what Urahara wrote by the end of the week. I will try to get Kira to find out what’s going on if you’d like, but everyone knows how fond he is of me; that keeps them a little close-lipped around him, poor kid.”

Aizen continued to walk a few minutes longer. He finally came to a stop as Seireitei came into view. The lights of the city twinkled brightly, in a glittering circle, surrounded by spidery suburbs of light reaching into the dark frontiers of Rukongai. “I think we must assume Urahara’s message was about Rukia,” he said slowly. “For many years now Kyoraku has been in the habit of visiting Urahara, and we assumed that, given the fact the Kyoraku, himself, was the one to show Urahara’s accusations against me were a lie, Urahara would not attempt to share any further knowledge or suspicions with the captain of the Eighth. We can no longer afford any such assumptions. Anything Urahara knows may have been shared with Kyoraku, and through him to Ukitake, answering all of his questions about the Arrancar, and then even as far as Kurotsuchi, who may even now be devising ways to counter us.

“Ukitake has been neutralized, however Kurotsuchi and Kyoraku must also be dealt with, along with Lieutenants Shiba, Hisagi and Ise--”

“And Shiro,” Gin interrupted, abruptly. “I can’t be sure, but he’s been close to Ukitake and Shiba for years. He could be a problem.”

“You think your own son could turn on you?” Tosen asked, looking surprised.

“WIthout a second thought,” Gin said, smiling proudly. “Little bastard’s never trusted me.”

“He has always seemed unusually bright,” Tosen said.

Aizen was frowning. “Unohana is, perhaps, a concern as well. Ukitake and Kyoraku may turn to her if they feel it’s necessary. Gin, see to it that they don’t succeed if they do try. We cannot have the Good Healer alerted prematurely.”

“Yes, sir,” Gin said.

Aizen turned away, looking down at the city once more. “I did not expect Urahara to reach out to anyone in the Gotei,” he said, and his frown deepened. “I do not like it. He has played the role of comical storekeeper too long, keeping his own council separate from the Gotei. Something has changed, and we missed it.”


	57. Chapter 57

Rangiku stared at Renji. The boy looked terrified, and she really couldn’t blame him. She couldn’t believe what he’d just told her. How could this be happening? Kuchiki Rukia had been sentenced to death. “And Byakuya isn’t doing anything?” she demanded.

Renji shook his head. “The captain won’t discuss it at all. It’s like she doesn’t even exist. You knew him before--and his wife--maybe he’d listen to you.”

Rangiku nodded. “He’s going to whether he wants to or not,” she said firmly. “Don’t worry, Renji. We’re going to fix this.”

She looked down at Yuki, asleep on her tiny futon, and then over at Kin-chan, sitting inside of a fort he had constructed from furniture and blankets. Shiro-chan had been going over reports at the table when Renji arrived, but he wasn’t there now. “Kin-chan,” she called to her younger son. “Where’s Nii-chan gone?”

“To get Daddy,” Kin-chan answered, not looking up as he was busy scribbling something on a scrap of paper.

“Why would he--” Rangiku broke off as she felt the reiatsu of both her older son and her husband reach the house at the same time. She hopped to her feet and turned toward the open porch. “Don’t you even--”

Gin appeared outside the shoji door. “Abarai, time for you to go home,” he said, not even glancing at the red-headed lieutenant.

“Yes, sir,” Renji said, quickly. He fled the room by the hall, not daring to pass the grinning captain.

“Two days!” Rangiku roared, turning on her husband and the son who stood only a step behind him. “Rukia has been sitting in a cell condemned for two days and you thought you just wouldn’t tell me about it? And don’t think you’re getting out of this either, Shiro. I know you’re just as guilty!”

“Ran, you’re supposed to be resting,” Gin said.

“And I will, just as soon as I’ve told Kuchiki Byakuya what I think of him! His own sister, Hisana’s flesh and blood, and he’s not doing anything?!?! You’d better be doing everything you can, too, Gin! They can’t kill her for something that stupid. It’s practically murder! You’d better be filing a protest and speaking to the general and whatever the hell else a captain can do! You’d better be calling in every favor anyone ever owed you! They can’t be allowed to execute Rukia!”

Yuki started wailing at that point, and Rangiku was distracted for a few moments, trying to calm the baby, but as soon as she could speak over the sound of Yuki’s whimpers she did. “Don’t you dare try to make me stay here, not with Rukia’s life at stake!”

“It’s out of the Gotei’s hands. Central 46 has passed their judgement, Ran,” Gin said. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Rangiku answered, in a low voice, as she swayed gently and shushed the tiny infant in her arms. “You can get her sentence commuted or something, and if you can’t, Byakuya can. He’s the head of the goddamned house! If he can’t use that power now there’s no point to any of it. She’s all that’s left of Hisana.”

Gin sighed. She was right about that, at least. It was all pointless. Even if by some miracle she persuaded Kuchiki to act, Rukia was going to die. There was nothing anyone could do to save her. She was damned the moment Urahara hid the hogyoku in her soul, but if Rangiku got to yell at Kuchiki maybe she’d feel like she’d done all she could. She didn’t need to be running around Seireitei less than a month after giving birth; she wind up back in Division Four.

“Shiro can watch Kin-chan, and I’ll get a ricksha to take us to the Kuchiki estate this evening,” Gin said finally.

“The hell you’re coming! The moment I raise my voice you’ll whisk me out of there, apologizing for my bad behavior, and that’s not going to happen! He’s the one who’s behaving badly this time. He made Rukia his sister; he owes her a proper nii-san’s dedication. You do whatever it takes to protect your little sister or brother, isn’t that right, Shiro-chan?”

Toshiro raised his head, and cold determination shone in his eyes. “Always,” he promised.

“See?” Rangiku demanded, turning back to Gin. “Shiro-chan knows it. Kuchiki Byakuya has no business doing anything but fighting for his sister, and he knows it! I’m just going to remind him before he shrugs her off as nothing but another worthless piece of Rukongai filth.”

“I’ll wait outside,” Gin said. “If you take Yuki with you, deal?”

“You think having the baby with me will keep me calm?” Rangiku demanded.

“I think having a baby with you will ensure Kuchiki doesn’t hurt you.”

Rangiku shook her head. “He would never.”

“He’s in a very bad mood. Would have let Kenpachi pick a fight with him if I hadn’t intervened.”

“You didn’t want to see that?” Rangiku asked, somewhat surprised. Gin was not usually the sort to calm people on the verge of fighting; he was much more the type to egg them all on.

“I didn’t want to be caught in the middle,” Gin answered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

The Kuchiki estate was quiet, and all the servants seemed melancholy and subdued. They treated Gin and Rangiku politely, but there was none of the friendliness of times past. They knew many of the servants by name and had talked with them many times before, but not tonight. They had all too clearly picked up their master’s mood.

At least he didn’t make her wait long. Rangiku was exhausted, and she wasn’t sure how long she could manage sitting on her knees on the tatami mats of an empty room holding a baby before she just gave up and laid down.

It was only a minute or two before a servant opened a door and Byakuya stepped inside, waiting for the servant to close the door behind him before he spoke. “You wished to see me, Lieutenant Ichimaru?”

Rangiku got carefully to her feet and crossed the room to look him directly in the eye. He looked down at her with that always so calm, so composed expression that she knew he intended to make everyone feel inferior. Hisana swore to her that it was a mask like Gin’s smile, to shield him from the world, and years ago, when Hisana had been alive, Rangiku was sure she had seen real emotions hidden in the depths of his eyes, but now there was nothing.

She raised one hand and slapped him for all she was worth. He didn’t so much as flinch. She’d thought he might stop her, but this was worse, looking at her like that, so full of contempt.

“That was from Hisana,” she told him as she stepped back and raised her hand to Yuki’s head, stroking her feathery soft hair. Gin had insisted she take the baby to keep her calm, whatever he said, and he was right. Even she couldn’t yell at a man with a helpless, sleeping infant in her arms. “Rukia is her flesh and blood, don’t even try to tell me she isn’t, and you have thrown her away like she’s worthless. How could you say you ever loved Hisana and treat Rukia like she’s nothing?”

“Are you done?” Byakuya asked, as though she was boring him.

Rangiku could feel the tears forming in her eyes; Gin wouldn’t like that. He hated when she cried. He always wanted to fix it. “You know, nobody made you take her in. You chose to make Rukia your sister. You promised to be her big brother, and if you don’t stand up for her now, you have less honor than the worst criminals in Rukongai because at least they would stand up for their family. What pride do you have, Kuchiki Byakuya, if you can allow a Kuchiki, your own sister, to be executed and to have her very soul destroyed?”

His eyes narrowed and Rangiku knew that something she’d said must have hit home. “The law must be upheld,” he answered. “I am a captain of the Gotei 13. It is my duty to uphold the law.”

“Fuck the law,” Rangiku snapped back. “You’re Kuchiki Byakuya. I’ve been told a thousand times that you are one of the most powerful men in all of Seireitei, but if you can’t save your own sister I really can’t say that I believe it. Because my husband, that filth of Rukongai that you hold in such contempt, would never allow anyone to harm me or any of our children, not even if the entirety Soul Society was against us--that's real strength, Kuchiki Byakuya, not just power and a pretty title or two, but the courage to wield that power to protect those you love, even when you know it could cost you everything. But you don’t have that kind of courage.

“I’m glad Hisana didn’t live to see this. She believed in you. She believed you were more than head of your family, than captain of the Sixth, she believed you were a real man.”

His expression darkened. “You have no right to speak of--”

“She was my friend! You’re not the only one who lost her, Byakuya,” she answered. The tears overflowed her eyes suddenly. She was beginning to feel wobbly, but she couldn’t just walk away. “If she’d entrusted Rukia to me, I would have done anything--” she choked back a sob. “I will do everything I can. I will. I will try to save Rukia, but I’m not a captain and I’m not the head of the Kuchiki family. Nobody cares what I have to say, but that’s not going to stop me. I loved Hisana, and I will do anything to save Rukia. Why won’t you?”

Her knees gave out abruptly and as she sank toward the ground Byakuya caught hold of her and the baby in her suddenly loose arms. 

“Ichimaru,” he said, and the other captain appeared almost instantly.

Without a word, he pulled Rangiku away from Byakuya, leaving the captain holding the infant as he looked Rangiku over.

She looked up into his narrow eyes and forced a pitiful smile.

“Tears?” he asked.

“Why won’t he save her?” she asked.

“He can’t, Ran,” Gin answered. “No one can. I’m sorry.”

She turned her face against his chest with a moan of misery and despair, and Gin’s arms wrapped around her, holding her up when she no longer had the strength to stand on her own.

After a moment he picked her up. Then he raised his eyes to Kuchiki. The man looked strange, holding a baby, stiff and uncomfortable, not that he didn’t always look a little bit that way to Gin. “Could you have someone bring the baby out? I don’t seem to have enough hands.”

Byakuya looked down at the infant in his arms, and the tiny, pale creature stared back at him. Her gray eyes seemed to hold some deep doubt as she looked at him. “I’ve got her,” he said. “I can carry her to the door.”

“Thanks for that,” Gin answered, smiling pleasantly. Rangiku would never know it, but he could see that her words had struck Byakuya. The man was hurting. He didn’t want to allow his sister’s execution. Gin couldn’t imagine what had him paralyzed into inaction, but it didn’t really matter. Even the head of the Kuchiki family couldn’t stop this execution.


	58. Chapter 58

Gin straightened slowly, contemplating the orange haired boy who’d beaten Jidanbo so easily. So that was Isshin’s son, he really could not understand Aizen’s fascination. Of course the kid had decent reiatsu, and it looked like Urahara had taught him a few tricks, but all in all, really, Shiro was much more impressive.

Just as he was turning away from the gate, Kaien appeared beside him. “There was a ryoka at the gate?” he demanded. Then he added, “Sir?”

Gin continued to smile. He wondered if Urahara’s note had mentioned the boy. “Yep.”

Distress shown for an instant in the lieutenant’s eyes before he managed to hide it. “Did you kill him?”

Gin shrugged. He’d felt Shinso glance off the boy’s zanpakuto, but there was no need to tell Kaien that. “Probably. Wonder why a human would go to all the trouble to get to Soul Society just to die?”

Kaien flinched. It really was a wonder Aizen hadn’t realized Gin had told him everything. He was awful at hiding his reactions. 

“You don’t think he could have followed Rukia-chan home, do you?” Gin asked, with his very favorite smiling innocence.

Kaien’s eyes widened which only pleased Gin further. It was such an obvious confirmation. The note must have mentioned the ryoka. He’d have to let Aizen know. If so many of the senior staff already knew the purpose of the ryoka’s visit it might be necessary to adjust their plans.

“Why would a ryoka have followed Rukia here?” Kaien finally managed to ask.

“Why not?” Gin asked, turning away from Kaien and starting back toward the city.

“Have you told Rangiku that Rukia is being moved to the Senzaikyu?” Kaien called after him.

Gin paused and looked back over his shoulder. “Why?” he asked. “Are you volunteering?”

“You’re not going to, are you?”

Gin turned back with a smile. “Shiro will eventually, thinking I just wouldn’t go home till then, but if you will that’d save me quite a bit of trouble.”

Kaien stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Captain, you’re a first class asshole.”

Gin’s smile grew. “Then you are? Thanks for that. She’ll take it so much better coming from you--after all, she knows you really will try to save poor Rukia-chan.”

He turned and walked away, waving cheerfully.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro had watched his mother carefully as Kaien and Miyako explained Rukia’s fate. He sat at the kotatsu with an enormous stack of division paperwork that he had no intention of touching. He knew his mother would not be happy when she heard about this latest development and had expected to have to spend the entire evening talking her down from one insane plan after another.

Rangiku looked from one of her friends to the other with an expression Toshiro knew all too well. This was how she had looked when she’d been told Isshin had gone missing. She was helpless and she knew it.

“Captain Ukitake has sent another formal protest to Central 46 and a request for a new trial,” Kaien said. “He would go himself if he could. Our division is doing all we can, Rangiku. You have to trust us. She is one of ours. We will do everything we can.”

Rangiku blinked back her tears. “Gin said there’s nothing anyone can do. Central 46 is not going to change their ruling. There's nothing anyone can do for Rukia.”

“They’re not going to let her die,” Miyako said, suddenly.

Toshiro’s eyes went to Miyako’s face. She wasn’t just saying that to make his mother feel better. She meant it. She knew the rulings of Central 46 were absolute, but she meant it. Did she know for a fact that Kaien and Captain Ukitake had no intention of allowing Rukia to be executed? Surely none of them would consider intervening illegally?

He opened his mouth to ask what she meant, but at that moment Gin burst into the room with Kinta on his shoulders.

“Oh, you should have seen him, Kin-chan,” Gin said, speaking intensely. “He had hair like fire and a zanpakuto as big as a man! He attacked Jidanbo without fear and destroyed his mighty axes--oh, hello, everyone! We brought you some dinner, Ran-chan.”

He set Kinta on the floor and the boy held out a bento box wrapped in blue-patterned cloth.

“Daddy fought a ryoka,” Kinta informed his mother as he shoved the bento into her arms.

“A ryoka?” Rangiku demanded, looking up at Gin in surprise.

“Some kid pretending to be a shinigami,” Gin said, lightly. “Weird, huh?”

Toshiro could not help noticing the glance the two Shibas exchanged at Gin’s words. He didn’t like this, not any of it.


	59. Chapter 59

Rangiku stared up at the sky. High above Seireitei a strange globe had collided with the barrier, and she watched with horror as it, impossibly, smashed through, only afterwards shattering and sending beams of light and reiatsu in four separate directions. Alarms went off throughout Seireitei.

As fast as she could she strapped Yuki into a sling across her chest and grabbed Kin-chan by the hand. The boy protested loudly, but she didn’t slow even slightly, completely ignoring the trail of ink falling from the boy’s brush as they raced from the room. Shoes on and then it was a quick shunpo to the First Division, where the captains meeting had just been called.

They were already getting out. She passed Captain Zaraki on the way, and the others were scattering toward their own divisions.

Rangiku stopped, looking around frantically. She couldn’t sense Gin. Where the hell had he gone this time?

“Mom? What are you doing here?”

Rangiku looked down to meet Shiro’s bright eyes narrowed at her in annoyance. “Did you see the explosion?” she demanded, pointing toward the sky.

“Captain Unohana said you have to rest,” Toshiro answered firmly. “You almost fainted at Kuchiki’s, and now you’re doing shunpo? Are you trying to hurt yourself?”

There was the sound of a distant explosion and Rangiku swung around to face the noise. A faint cloud was rising in the far distance.

“Apparently Dad didn’t manage to kill the Ryoka, and now they’ve broken in--but that looks like the Eleventh’s territory. They won’t last long.”

Gin had failed to kill a Ryoka? Rangiku could hardly believe it. The Ryoka would have to be--he would have to be almost as strong as a lieutenant just to survive a single hit. Was that possible?

“What do they want?” she asked, feeling an awful sort of sick horror.

Could a Ryoka really be that strong--or had Gin let him live?

“You don’t need to worry about it,” Toshiro said forcefully. “We can handle it. You need to go home. Come on.” He took her arm and turned her back toward the division. 

“You have to stay home, Mom,” Toshiro added as he led her away from the First Division. “I can’t believe you heard the alarms, and you still brought Kin-chan and Yuki outside. What were you thinking?”

“We’d be safer with Gin,” she answered, and she glanced back over her shoulder, wondering, once more, where her husband had gone.

“You know if there’s any real danger he’ll come to you,” Toshiro told her, but Rangiku caught a note of doubt in his voice.

“Where is he, Shiro-chan?” she demanded, suddenly, not even partially managing to hide her rising panic.

“He has work to do,” Toshiro said firmly. “So do I. That’s why you need to stay home. We need you to stay safe so we can deal with this, alright? Can’t you understand that?”

Rangiku nodded. He was right. She was in the way. A mother with a baby was nothing but in the way. Her hand tightened on Kin-chan’s, and she stepped away from Toshiro. “We’re going home, Kin-chan,” she said firmly. “Thank you, Captain, but you don’t need to bother to see us home. We will be quite alright on our own.”

“Shesh, Mom, just let me see you home, ok?”

“Fine. Alright. Just--I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”

“You’re always a lot of trouble,” Toshiro answered. “I’m used to it.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Gin thought the situation was quite humorous. He was following Kaien, who was really following so close behind Renji that the idiot should be demoted for not noticing, and he expected Kira and cute little Hinamori would be following as well any moment now. All the little lieutenants were terribly amusing.

Unlike the rest of the Gotei, Renji, and Captain Kuchiki, although he supposed not even any of the captains would have the guts to ask him about it, knew the Ryoka’s reiatsu and would be able to track him down without too much effort. So while Zaraki was running all over Seireitei like a chicken with its head cut off, Gin and Kaien were both following Renji directly to the strange, orange haired Ryoka.

Gin wasn’t much interested in the fight after Ichigo was able to take the first blow. Aizen had clearly been right; the boy was able to improve rapidly in the face of opposition. What really interested him was the way the head of the Shiba family was being so careful to stay out of Renji’s sight even after the fight had started. Shouldn’t an ally offer some sort of support or at least call out encouragements?

Instead, Kaien kept looking over at the Ryoka’s two companions with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. Gin thought it must have to do with the larger man’s absurd outfit which included large Shiba family seals on his pants. He had to agree with Kaien if that was what bothered him; the man did look pretty silly.

But then when Renji finally went down, Kaien ran out across the open ground with his hands raised, open palms up.

“Ganju, you idiot! Are you trying to get killed?” he demanded, even as the other two ran to their severely injured friend.

“Nii-san!” Ganju nearly shouted in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here, you moron!” Kaien answered, striking him on the side of the head. “You should have come straight to me!”

Then he looked down at the Fourth Division healer and the bleeding Ryoka. “Can he be moved?”

“Ne-san didn’t want us to bug you,” Ganju was protesting. “You could get in trouble.”

Yamada raised his head, finally noticing the lieutenant of the Thirteenth. His eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Sir?” he squeaked.

“Kuchiki Rukia is my subordinate,” Kaien declared, lifting the bleeding boy. “And my responsibility--I’m taking this one to the estate. You think you can find your way?”

“Uh--”

Kaien vanished before Ganju managed any sort of answer.

The healer looked up at the much larger man. “Which estate?” he asked softly.

“Shiba, you moron! That was Shiba Kaien, head of the Shiba family and my big brother!”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

Gin had to hold back laughter as he watched the two of them vanish back into the sewers. These were the allies Urahara had managed to find to help with Rukia’s rescue. He really wasn’t impressed. He supposed he would have to go over to the Shiba estate to see if anything more effective might be happening there.

In the end he ended up doing one quick favor for Kira before he went on to the Shiba estate. It was a pleasure giving the orders to the Fourth to patch Renji up. It wasn't often he got the opportunity to cross Kuchiki. He really hoped someone told Kuchiki it was him who had done it--they probably would if only to cover their own asses. He was happy to help.

Then it was on to the Shiba estate and a simple bit of shunpo and reiatsu suppression, and he was laying comfortably on the roof above the porch where Ichigo was being treated--how nice that Ganju and--what was that little guy's name?--had managed to find their way here.

“Nii-san, are you sure we should be here?” Ganju asked yet again.

“Don't be silly,” Miyako answered. “We're family. We would want to help you even if we didn't know Rukia at all, but Rukia is just as dear to us as she is to you. We were already determined to find a way to help her even before you came to Seireitei.”

“See, I told you,” Kaien said. “You should have come straight here.”

“That's what I intended before we were all separated,” the cat said.

Gin frowned. A talking cat was strange enough; he'd never known anybody to manage that before, but the fact that the cat seemed to be in charge and the additional fact that they seemed to be calling the cat Yoruichi which he could swear was Urahara’s ninja girlfriend’s name really was beyond him.

“I'm a little worried about the other three,” the cat added. “They're not as strong as Ichigo. They’ll be in trouble even if they run into a third or fourth seat.”

“I don't know about that. The Fourth Seat of the Seventh had gone missing earlier,” Kaien said. “Everyone was pretty sure one of the Ryoka had gotten him.”

“Yeah?” Ganju said. “Guess those guys weren't so weak after all.”

“We still need to find them before they find themselves face to face with a lieutenant or worse. Then we need to work out a more sensible plan. If Ichigo keeps running straight at that tower all he’s going to do is end up getting himself killed. Everyone who wants a piece of him can line up and take turns,” Yoruichi said.

“Zaraki Kenpachi will be the first,” Miyako said. “I passed him three times today, looking for the Ryoka. I'm glad he had no more luck than I did, but you're right. Once he hears where Ichigo fought Renji it won't be difficult to guess where he’ll go next.”

“We should wait,” Kaien said. “We’ll locate the other kids and get them here, and then we need to wait. I don't know what Urahara was thinking, sending you all here, but we still have almost two weeks. That's plenty of time for us to find a way to save Rukia without any outside help.”

“There is more happening than you’re aware of, young Kaien,” the cat answered. “You're only seeing what they want you to see. This isn't a simple miscarriage of justice. Kuchiki Rukia’s execution is the culmination of a century of planning. Our enemy has already anticipated our every move and made plans to counter them. Ichimaru Gin’s appearance at the gate just when we arrived is proof he had even anticipated Kisuke sending the Ryoka. I'm not sure--”

“What do you mean? How was Gin at the gate a part of the enemy's plan?”

Gin smiled. Aizen hadn't wanted poor little Ichigo to get killed the first moment he stepped foot in Seireitei. Any other captain or lieutenant who might have come to deal with the invader probably would have finished him off--clever little cat!

“Shiba Kaien,” the cat said coolly. “You are aware of the accusations Kisuke made against Aizen Sosuke at his trial one hundred years ago, are you not? He named Ichimaru Gin and Tosen Kaname as co-conspirators. What is happening now is nothing more or less than a continuation of Aizen's plot. If you still doubt Kisuke I don't think we will be able to work with you. Thank you for the place to stay, but we’ll be going as soon as Ichigo wakes up.”

“I'm not doubting Urahara,” Kaien said quickly. “Maybe I'm naive, but I cannot believe he would have done what the Gotei accused him of. He's not like Kurotsuchi; he wouldn't risk the lives of others in an experiment without their knowledge, but Aizen, I can't believe it of him either. If the enemy's power is the creation of perfect illusions then couldn't he, whoever he is, be using Aizen’s form as a disguise? How can we be sure he is in fact Aizen?”

Gin considered that. He supposed he really was the only one who could say for sure, as he was the one and only person who had seen Aizen as the monster he was long before he ever met him in the Gotei. What a nasty little problem that must be for them all.

“Ichigo and his friends are immune to Aizen's illusions,” the cat answered. “Because they have never seen Aizen’s false shikai. We can use them to expose any illusions he may attempt to distract us with.”

Gin sat up abruptly. Then he was racing back to Central 46. He hadn't thought about that. Even the new graduates could be used the same way. Suddenly Aizen's convoluted plan seemed less like a game and more like necessary steps to his goal. He would report their intentions immediately, but he wondered what his next task would be. He hoped eliminating the Ryoka wouldn't be his job. He really detested killing children.


	60. Chapter 60

Yuki had woken Rangiku at five-thirty in the morning for breakfast so perhaps it wasn't surprising Rangiku slept through the alarms that went off that morning, and she missed the panic and chaos the murder of a captain inevitably caused. She and Yuki were enjoying a perfectly lovely long morning nap when she was awoken by Kinta’s howls from the next room.

“I can't go right now! I'm busy! I'm building a moat! Nii-chan!” Kinta’s piercing voice startled Yuki, who immediately joined in with wails of her own.

“Oh, God,” Rangiku groaned, sitting up slowly and picking up the crying infant.

She heard the water come on, along with further protests from Kinta, and then a voice outside her door. Surprisingly, it sounded like Nanao.

“Rangiku, are you awake?” she called out.

“Come on in,” Rangiku said, as she settled Yuki down to nurse.

“Were you asleep?” Nanao asked in surprise.

Rangiku raised her head. She was still in her sleeping kimono, sitting on her futon, with her hair unbrushed and probably in a huge rats nest. How Nanao could even ask was beyond her. “I was up for a while around five or six,” she offered, not wanting to sound like a complete slug.

Nanao’s eyes shifted from Rangiku to the other futon, turned down but obviously unslept in. “Gin go missing again?”

Rangiku frowned. She supposed that was a nice way to put it. Gin’s tendency not to come home, sometimes for days on end, was well known throughout the Gotei. It was so typical of him and their life together that Rangiku had ceased to even be embarrassed by it. “Maybe he was hunting Ryoka,” she suggested.

“All night?” Nanao asked, and there was something in her tone that almost made Rangiku a little nervous.

“I haven't seen him since yesterday if that's what you're asking,” Rangiku answered.

Kinta pushed past Nanao into the room. He was soaking wet and stark naked and there was still a little mud clinging to his dripping golden curls.

“Ah,” Rangiku said. “Did the moat finally reach the koi pond?”

“I just made it, but Nii-chan made me come home! And take a bath! And now he wants me to pack a bag to go to Aunt Nanao's house, but I don't want to play with Ai-chan! I want to finish my moat. Why didn't Aunt Nanao bring Ai-chan here? She could help with the moat!”

“Ai-chan is playing with her jii-chan today. Doesn't that sound like fun?” Nanao said.

Toshiro yanked open the other sliding door into the room. He was also sopping wet, though fully dressed, and he looked more than a little ticked. The captain of the Tenth Division marched into the room, grabbed his little brother, and dragged him out. His, “Clothes, now,” sounded more like an order being issued to a subordinate than an older brother to his little brother.

Rangiku looked up at Nanao in confusion. “You're taking Kin-chan to play with Ai-chan?”

“Something happened this morning, Rangiku,” Nanao said, looking sad and worried. “Captain Aizen was killed. Lieutenant Hinamori accused Gin; I don't know why; he likely said something as tasteless as usual, but she took it as a sign of guilt and tried to attack him. Kira tried to stop her, but Toshiro had to stop them, and they're both locked up for now.

“They say it was likely one of the Ryoka who murdered Aizen, but we can't know until they are captured. Toshiro and I would like you to come to the Eighth so the Captain and I can keep an eye on you. The barriers the Captain had built into my home make it safer than almost anywhere else in Seireitei. If nothing else, please come for Toshiro’s sake. He wants to protect you, but he has a job to do. He needs to be able to focus.”

Rangiku looked down at Yuki; her beautiful daughter with her father’s perfect pale skin and snowy hair. Until yesterday he had managed to come home every day of her life, if not at night at least for lunch. She'd started to feel that maybe, somehow, he really wanted to be a part of their family. Even with all the worries she'd had it had been so nice, but now--could he have killed Aizen? His own captain? “What about Gin?” she asked finally.

“The entire Gotei is on high alert. I'm sure he's very busy too. And he wouldn't want you to be here on your own after what happened. Not when you won't have even Kira here if something happens.”

Rangiku nodded. “You're right, of course,” she agreed. “And Shiro-chan can tell him where we are.”

“I'm going to pack you an overnight bag just in case,” Nanao said.

Rangiku nodded again. They obviously both suspected Gin. They were wrong. She was sure of that. There were very few people Gin respected, but Captain Aizen, he was probably the one who mattered to Gin most. He was practically like a father to him. Whatever they thought had happened they were wrong. Gin would never have murdered Aizen.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Gin was not surprised to see them; Aizen had predicted it, and he had almost never been wrong. It was the obvious move, bringing one of the Ryoka to see Aizen's body. Kaien had plenty of reason to suspect the reality of anything connected to Aizen. The Ryoka could confirm it one way or another.

All he could really think was that they probably needed a better screening process for lieutenants because this would be number four locked up in twenty-four hours, if, of course, he survived their little confrontation.

Gin hopped down onto the road half a dozen yards ahead of the lieutenant of the Thirteenth and the Ryoka also known as Kurosaki Ichigo. They had at least hidden the boy’s zanpakuto in a large pack not unlike the one Toshiro used to lug around. Everyone in the Gotei was looking for an orange-haired Ryoka dressed like a shinigami and carrying an enormous zanpakuto. Even with Kaien, he probably couldn't have made it to the Fourth without being stopped.

“Fraternizing with the enemy, Shiba-kun?” Gin said smiling pleasantly as he stepped forward. “Well, he is your kin so maybe they'll go easy on you. Life in prison instead of the Sokyoku with Rukia-chan.”

For a moment Kaien stared at Gin in complete shock. Then there was confusion. Kaien glanced back at Ichigo, and Gin knew he was wondering how the human could possibly be related to him--proof Urahara hadn’t told his Soul Society allies everything--and then he looked back at Gin.

He would probably have spoken then but the boy beat him to it. “You’re Captain Ichimaru, right? I remember you. You were going to kill Jidanbo for opening the gate for me,” he said, and his hand went to his back.

“Maybe,” Gin answered. He really hadn't made up his mind about that. He’d said Jidanbo should die, but that didn't really mean anything. He wasn't the sort of man you should ever take at his word.

Ichigo shrugged the bag off his shoulder and his zanpakuto was in his hand. He brought it over his shoulder and gripped it in his two hands. “You owe me a fight.”

Gin’s smile faded and he scratched his head in seeming thoughtfulness. “Has anyone explained to you how things work here?” he asked. “Challenging a captain isn't really a good idea. Maybe beating up poor Abarai-kun yesterday made you a little too confident. You are improving quickly, better than you were at the gate already, but you're still a long way from captain level. Shiba-kun, tell him; running is his only option here.”

Kaien stepped forward, drawing his own zanpakuto. “Get out of here, Ichigo. He’s right. You can’t beat him.”

Gin’s smile grew enormous. “But you think you can, Shiba-kun?” he asked, and he pulled Shinso from its sheath. “Now this could be fun. That is--did you ever get that bankai worked out?”

“I’m not going to run away,” Ichigo said.

“You’re here for Rukia,” Kaien answered, without taking his eyes off Gin. “You can’t risk failing her because you’re trying to help me. You’ve got to get out of here before anyone else comes. I can handle Ichimaru.”

“Really?” Gin said. “Shinso, shoot to kill.”

The zanpakuto crossed the distance almost instantly, and Kaien had to dart to one side to knock Shinso from its path, aimed directly at Ichigo’s head.

“I’m your opponent, Ichimaru!” Kaien shouted. “Ichigo, go!”

Ichigo looked from Kaien to Gin, exchanging blows almost too rapidly for him to follow. For the moment, at least, Kaien was holding his own.

“You’re sure you can win?” Ichigo demanded.

“Go!”

Ichigo finally turned and ran, and Gin couldn’t resist the urge to try one last time to hit him in the back. Kaien blocked it, not surprisingly, and Gin sighed.

“He’s gone,” Gin said, two blows later. “What do you say to surrendering now? I’ll have to bring you in so I can’t go after him. We’ll just have to see who’s lucky enough to find him next, sound fair?”

“You’ll let me surrender?” Kaien asked, just after he barely managed to stop a blow aimed for his neck.

“Our wives are friends. Rangiku will be terribly put out at me if I kill you,” Gin answered. “It really doesn’t sound worth it unless you insist on fighting to the death, because I’m not going to be the one dying today.”

“Alright,” Kaien said, dropping his zanpakuto and holding up his hands. “You win. Miyako’d be the same if I killed you anyway.”

Gin shrugged as he sheathed Shinso. “Women,” he said. “They really do make things difficult sometimes.”


	61. Chapter 61

Toshiro felt like the day was strange enough already. He really didn’t need to run into his father on his way to the First with Lieutenant Shiba Kaien in chains.

Gin smiled happily at him and waved Kaien’s zanpakuto which he’d apparently relieved the lieutenant of and was carrying as though it held no more significance than a walking stick. “Hello, Shiro, look what I’ve caught this morning. You may have gotten two lieutenants but mine’s also a noble!”

“What’s going on?” Toshiro demanded, coming to an abrupt stop and staring at the two men in complete and utter disbelief.

“I caught Kaien here helping out the orange-haired Ryoka; can you believe it?”

Honestly, no, Toshiro couldn’t, but he looked to Kaien for confirmation, and the lieutenant nodded.

“He’s here for Rukia,” Kaien said. “He’s been with me since his fight with Lieutenant Abarai yesterday. He had nothing to do with Captain Aizen’s murder, neither did any of his friends.”

Toshiro’s frown deepened, but he wasn’t surprised. He had doubted the Ryoka could be strong enough to kill Aizen, especially like that, and if the Ryoka were trying to save Rukia it made sense that Kaien would work with them. Everyone knew how the Thirteenth felt about Rukia’s sentence. “Is anyone else in the Gotei helping the Ryoka?” he asked, knowing Kaien wouldn’t tell him even if there was. “Something more is happening within the Gotei. I think someone is using the Ryoka as a smokescreen, but I need to know what the Ryoka are doing so I can figure out what someone else is trying to hide.”

“The Ryoka are not doing anything but trying to rescue Rukia,” Kaien answered. “If you want to know what’s really happening I suggest you start by figuring out what happened to Captain Aizen.”

“I think I should probably get Kaien here properly locked up,” Gin said before Toshiro could question the lieutenant further. “But maybe you and I can get together later and have a little chat, and you might even tell me where you’ve stashed your mom.”

Gin was smiling the entire time and even waved before he left with Kaien, but Toshiro’d known him his entire life and was very good at picking up that slight edge to his voice that said he wasn’t happy with his son. Maybe asking Kyoraku to add a barrier to Nanao’s home that completely hid his mother and siblings’ reiatsu from detection had been a step too far.

No, Toshiro told himself as he watched his father disappear down the road, it was necessary. He might be wrong and his father might be completely innocent, but either way, he just couldn’t risk it. His parents were just too much the kind of stupid that was willing to do anything for each other. A threat to either one could way too easily make the other do something fatally stupid. It was best to keep them completely separated until everything was over.

Now it was his job to get the whole mess worked out as quickly as possible. He needed to find out what had happened to Aizen. Kaien was right about that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro was led at a slug’s pace through the Fourth to the room where Captain Unohana was examining Aizen’s body by Third Seat Iemura. Iemura was one of those unusual people in the Gotei who’d never thought much of any of the Ichimaru family. He was too much of a snob to approve of so many upstarts from Rukongai. Toshiro, who usually found it annoying to be prejudged by people because of his father, found Iemura’s snooty attitude amusing. The man so clearly hated having to treat him well.

“Captain Unohana has been very busy this morning, sir. Our division is already overtaxed with men injured by the Ryoka. We have had dozens from the Eleventh alone, and now this tragedy! Of course the entire Gotei is looking to our captain for answers, but Captain Unohana cannot be rushed. Patience is absolutely necessary at times like these,” the Third Seat told Toshiro pointedly. “Captain Unohana has spent the entire morning examining the body, and she is running a test on it currently. Any interruption will only delay her further. If you would be willing to wait--”

Toshiro ignored the man and walked directly into the room where Unohana and her lieutenant stood with two unfamiliar members of the squad. One was a boy barely taller than Toshiro with very worried eyes, and the other was a girl just old enough to have graduated from the Academy. They were all looking at the table where Aizen’s body lay, but the girl looked very confused.

“I don’t understand, Captain,” she said softly. “Where is the captain’s body?”

“What?” Toshiro demanded.

Unohana turned calmly to address him. “Young Captain Ichimaru,” she said. “How very good of you to join us--Third Seat Iemura, thank you so much for bringing the captain to me. You and Iwai-kun may go.”

“But please do not speak of this to anyone,” Unohana added as the girl passed Toshiro.

“Yes, Captain,” the girl answered, bowing before she left the room.

Unohana turned to Toshiro as soon as the door closed. “My Seventh Seat, Yamada Hanataro, brought me a request this morning, from Captains Kyoraku and Ukitake, to ask my junior division members to take a look at Captain Aizen’s body. They have reason to believe there is someone working against the Gotei with the ability to create illusions so powerful it is impossible to see through them, but they hoped that the most junior members of the Gotei have not been exposed to the power and might still be immune.

“Five members admitted to my division from the Academy this year have been brought in to look at this body, and they see nothing.

“I can see Captain Aizen’s body here,” Unohana said to Toshiro. “I can touch it and sense it. It is absolutely real to me, but if the captains are correct, it does not exist at all. And that is what my youngest division members would tell me; there is no body.”

“Is that possible?” Toshiro asked. He stepped closer to Aizen’s still form, his face slack, blood dried on clothing in a dark line from the wound that had pierced his chest. It had been a shock to see the man hanging from the tower wall. He had understood Hinamori’s grief and rage. If his father had murdered Aizen, who had always treated him with such kindness and given him so much support, who’d really made Gin’s entire life possible, if he’d murdered him, then Toshiro would kill him himself.

But if this wasn’t Aizen, then what--was he still alive? If he was then where was he? Could someone actually have captured him and set the body as a decoy? What the hell was going on?

“There are many shikai and bankai throughout the Gotei that alter perception,” Unohana said. “Captain Tosen can trap his opponent in a world without light, and one hundred years ago there was a Captain Hirako Shinji, of the Fifth before Captain Aizen, who could invert the world not only visually but also affecting a person’s perception of the world through every other sense as well. An illusion like this one, affecting every sense, is possible, but no such shikai or bankai has ever been recorded in the Gotei.”

“Do you think one of the Ryoka--”

“They’re not--” One look from Unohana shut up Hanataro’s protest and had him retreating into the nearest corner.

“I tried to break the illusion through force,” Unohana said. “Even then I could feel nothing resisting me, the body simply continued to be as it is. If this is an illusion it is the work of a captain or another shinigami of captain level.”

“Captain level?” Toshiro repeated. There were fewer than thirty people in the Gotei considered captain level. He knew them all and thought of most of them as friends. He could not imagine any of them deceiving Seireitei like this, not for any reason--for a split second he wondered if his father would think it made a great joke, but he realized he was being absurd--this wasn't a joke. An illusion on this scale, meant to deceive the entire Gotei, had to be some part of a larger plan. This was treason against Soul Society itself. “Aizen is either a part of it or its first victim,” he said aloud.

“I do not want to believe Captain Aizen would betray us,” Unohana said gently. “But to imagine we have an enemy strong enough to subdue him and to create an illusion like this is even more terrible.”

“We cannot let them know we know,” Toshiro said, refusing to worry about Aizen any further. “Not until we’ve found a way to break the illusion. We have to find out who they are and what their plan is before they're aware their distraction failed. Because as long as they have the power of perfect illusion we cannot fight them head on.”

“There is one way we may break the illusion,” Captain Unohana answered. “It should be within Captain Ukitake’s abilities if he is well enough to use his bankai.”

Toshiro’s eyes widened. In his entire life he had not once heard anything about Captain Ukitake’s bankai. He had assumed the Captain was no longer well enough to use it, and everyone else just liked him enough not to complain that he really no longer had the strength to serve as a captain.

“You are wise to suggest that we should not alert our enemy to our discovery until we are prepared to stop him, and asking Captain Ukitake here would likely make our suspicions obvious, as the mastermind of so elaborate a plan must be aware of its most obvious weakness,” Unohana said. “So I think it is time for Captain Ukitake’s illness to flare most severely.”

She walked calmly to a table against one wall and picked up a pen. As she began to write, she spoke again, this time addressing Hanataro. “Yamada-kun, I expect you know a sewer route from our division to the Thirteenth? I need you to deliver this message directly to Captain Ukitake as quickly as you can while avoiding the notice of anyone who might be watching. Even once you reach the Thirteenth you must be sure no one learns of your mission.”

“Yes, Captain,” the boy said, nodding and bowing nervously.

Unohana handed him the letter and he bowed again. “Good luck,” she told him, smiling gently as he left the room.

“You don’t think anyone will notice him?” Toshiro asked.

“They never do,” Unohana answered.


	62. Chapter 62

It occurred to Gin, after leaving Kaien with the First Division, that he might want to check to see what all the lieutenant’s little friends might be doing. He could hear as well as anyone the thunderous noise that was Kenpachi playing with Ichigo. He wondered vaguely if the Ryoka was going to survive but wasn’t curious enough to go check. Going near Kenpachi when he was fighting was a bit like being near sharks when there was blood in the water, really not somewhere anyone would like to be.

Instead, he headed back toward the Shiba estate. Someone really ought to let poor Miyako know her husband had been arrested. It would be such an awful shock--and maybe the talking cat would be there. Not knowing what was up with the talking cat really was going to kill him. If he managed to be somewhat sympathetic maybe Miyako would explain it.

But halfway to the estate he ran into Miyako with Ganju walking toward the Gotei. It seemed odd to him that they would walk so calmly; he really had expected the woman to run to her husband’s side. 

Miyako looked worried but also resigned, and Ganju didn’t look upset at all. Gin wondered if it was possible the man was even stupider than he seemed and didn’t understand that his brother being caught with one of the Ryoka would be considered treason by the Gotei.

“Hello,” he called out as they approached. “I suppose you’ve already heard then?”

The pair stopped, and Miyako looked up at him. After a moment she let out a breath in relief. “Even you wouldn’t be smiling,” she said, calmly. “If he was already dead.”

“Well, I didn’t kill him, and we do still have a legal process here in Soul Society. Even if they do decide to execute him he should still have a few weeks.”

Miyako’s eyes widened in shock. “What are you talking about?”

“Kaien--what are you talking about?”

“What do you mean, Kaien? What’s happened to Kaien?” she demanded.

Ganju, too, shouted questions at him. “What did you do to Nii-chan? If you hurt my Nii-chan I’ll--”

“What?” Gin asked, suddenly curious. What did this ridiculous man think he could do to harm him? “You don’t play with explosives like your sister, do you? That probably wouldn’t be wise for someone of your intellect--or lack thereof--”

“Gin!” Miyako snapped. “Tell me what has happened to my husband!”

“My, my, Lady Shiba, you’re beginning to sound like a proper noblewoman. Do you want me on my knees while I explain?”

“Just tell me!” 

The poor woman looked ready to strangle him, and knowing her she just might do it, so Gin gave up teasing, and said, simply, “Lieutenant Shiba was caught with a Ryoka. He’s been arrested and taken to the First. The Ryoka got away.”

“Oh,” Miyako gasped, and took a step back. Ganju proved himself less than useless by catching hold of her and providing a stable arm while she pulled herself together. 

“Thank you for telling me, Captain Ichimaru,” she said stiffly. “Do you think it will be possible for me to see him?”

“Well,” Gin said slowly. “They’re being pretty strict about things ‘cause of Aizen, but they’re always bending the rules for your type, aren’t they?”

Miyako nodded. “I see; I can only try. I am afraid this will only send the Thirteenth into even greater chaos. You see, Captain Ukitake was rushed to the Fourth only moments ago, and that is where Ganju and I were headed. If Kaien is also--”

“The Thirteenth is under the command of Kiyone and Sentaro--that is a terrifying thought, but wasn’t Ukitake doing better recently?”

“I thought so too, but this must be serious. Nemu didn’t even want to wait for someone to be sent from the Fourth. She took him straight to Unohana, and now they’ve sent for me, but if Kaien--”

“I will go to the Fourth,” Gin offered. “And you will go to Kaien. If there is any immediate danger I promise I will fetch you right away, but the Captain is a great deal stronger than he appears. I’m sure he will pull through this too.”

For a second Miyako looked surprised. Then she said, “What do you want, Ichimaru Gin? You're never this kind without reason.”

Gin tried to look offended but didn't quite manage it. “How about you explain how a cat learned to talk?” he offered.

Miyako laughed despite herself. “Is that what bothers you most? I’m afraid you’ll have to wonder a little longer. That secret doesn’t belong to me.”

“A hint?” Gin asked.

“The cat’s name is Yoruichi,” she answered. Then she turned to her brother-in-law. “Come, Ganju, we must see if anything can be done for Kaien.”

“I already knew that,” Gin called after her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Toshiro noticed Gin skulking along one of the hallways of the Fourth Division, peaking in doorways with his usual indifference to personal privacy.

“What are you doing here?” Toshiro asked.

“Very nice to see you too,” Gin answered, smiling his most fake and fox-like smile. “Doesn’t look like the Ryoka have been giving you any trouble either. Glad of that. I’m sure your mother would find some way to make it my fault if one of them skewered you.”

Toshiro glared at him for a moment. “Not that you’d care,” he said.

“Not so!” Gin said, sounding offended by the suggestion. “I’d be very annoyed with you. After all the years I spent training you, if a fifteen year old human can best you, it would prove it had all been a tremendous waste of time. And an embarrassment! You carry my name, you know! You’d better win.”

“Because that’s what matters to you?” Toshiro asked. “Is that why you don’t care what happened to Captain Aizen? You’re just going to write him off since he lost?”

“Suppose so,” Gin agreed. “That’s what your mother’s for. I’m sure she’ll weep over him for weeks; it’ll be Isshin all over again; months of crying and drinking and moping about the house. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“It wouldn’t have gotten so bad if you’d ever even tried to help her.”

“Well, I can’t this time,” Gin said. “You’ve gone and hidden her from me. I don’t know how you talked her into it. Ran’s not usually particularly cooperative, but then, you’ve always been good at getting her to do what you want.

“I do appreciate that your first thought was to protect your mother. You must have gone straight there while the rest of us were left dealing with the mess because you were all gone by the time I got there, but hiding her from me--do you really think I could hurt her, Shiro, really?”

Toshiro raised his head, turning cold, angry eyes on his father. “You hurt her all the time; it’s all you ever do. You treat her just decent enough to keep her hanging on to that stupid belief that somewhere deep down you actually give a shit. When the truth is you never have.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Gin’s eyes widened for just a second, and then the mask was back, the smiling fox that never hurt. He had not expected that, never imagined it would be so painful to hear his son accuse him of never loving Rangiku. He’d never said he did, but he’d never said he didn't, at least not in Shiro's presence. He’d always sort of assumed the boy would know, that in the end, when he was exposed as a traitor and a monster, that not just Rangiku but also Toshiro would know why he had done what he had done. Even if he never had a chance to explain, that they would understand.

“So I heard Captain Ukitake's taken a turn for the worse. Pretty hard on you if you lose your two greatest heroes in one day,” he said in that oh so delighted tone that never failed to cause pain.

“At least I know you didn't have anything to do with Captain Ukitake being here,” Toshiro said, turning his back on Gin.

“Do you?” Gin asked.

“What?” Toshiro demanded, turning back, eyes flashing with rage.

“You still lose your temper too easily,” Gin told him. “That's not a good trait for a captain.”

“What did you mean about Captain Ukitake?” Toshiro asked through gritted teeth.

“Nothing in particular. Just a bit odd, isn’t it?” Gin said. “He got quite a bit better when he fell for Nemu-chan; that wasn’t surprising knowing it’s nothing but his own will to live that keeps him alive, and people in love, they can be very determined. And yet just a few years later, for absolutely no reason anyone can explain, his health collapsed completely--what might have caused that, I wonder?”

“You?” Toshiro bit out that one single word.

Gin shrugged. “I doubt I’ve yet gained the status of Source of All Evil in Soul Society. You may not realize it, but there’s some stiff competition out there.”

Toshiro’s hand rose to Hyorinmaru’s hilt. “This isn't a game,” he said, slowly. “And if I find out you are involved I will kill you myself.”

Gin’s smile grew enormous. “Getting a little ambitious there, aren’t you, kiddo? I suggest you stick to trying to solve the problems you can handle. Go on, figure out this little puzzle, but leave the fighting to the grown-ups.”

He gestured to Nanao as she appeared at the end of the hall, and immediately called out. 

“Captain Ichimaru!”

“She means you,” Gin said, and the moment Shiro turned to look, he shunpoed away.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Captain Kurotsuchi was having a bad day. He had very cleverly located two of the Ryoka all on his own, but then, when he had sent for Nemu she hadn’t come. The silly thing was dealing with some sort of emergency, and he was stuck using ordinary, run-of-the-mill division members. At least they were cleverer than the hulking idiots from the Eleventh. They were doing an adequate job wrestling the Ryoka away from the Eleventh, and maybe he should have waited for them to bring the Ryoka to him--but a little toxic gas never hurt anyone; he’d run the tests back before everyone got all picky about his methods; it would knock out everyone and he could collect the Ryoka at his leisure--

But the damned girl had some sort of shield, and that moron from the Eleventh went off about everyone being dead--they weren’t dead, thank you very much, at worst they were stuck in a non-responsive vegetative state--which they would recover from eventually--so no rules broken, even Nemu’s bleeding heart husband couldn’t complain.

So now the moron had run off with the girl, and he was stuck with a damned Quincy shooting arrows at him. “I have no interest in you personally,” Kurotsuchi told the boy. “I’ve already completed my study of Quincies. I know everything there is to know about them, and you seem like a particularly dull specimen--I do wish Nemu was here; I’d have her capture you, but the useless girl’s sitting around the Fourth holding her dying husband’s hand--again! 

“He does always seem to be dying when I need her most. I’ve told her more than once that if he was really dying she wouldn’t do any good just sitting there, and if he isn’t then she can hold his hand some other time--she needs to come to work. I constructed her to be my perfect assistant, not some other captain’s sweet little wife. She can bend steel with her bare hands--what could he possibly need a wife like that for?”

Ishida, who’d begun to wonder if the mad scientist had forgotten him, was startled to find Kurotsuchi seemed to be directing the question to him. “What?”

Kurotsuchi flung up his hands. “I tell you it’s ridiculous. My Nemu is a super genius. She has a computing capacity beyond any of your silly human computers, and she’s stronger than a dozen shinigami. She has been trained in various martial arts and can handle most weapons as an expert. She requires neither food nor sleep to function. She’s immune to all disease and most poisons and can survive the removal of any organ you’d like. Does she sound like wife material to you?”

Ishida blinked. “Maybe not?” he offered finally.

“Exactly!” Kurotsuchi declared in triumph. “He’s stolen her; that’s what he’s done. He noticed how useless his own division members are and he’s stolen my lieutenant! I refuse to put up with it any longer. As soon as I’ve dealt with you I’ll go and tell him exactly what I think of him, and I won’t hear any more of this ‘love’ nonsense. Nemu’s mine, and I want her back.”

“Is that what you shinigami do? Treat your women like pieces of property? No wonder Rukia was so happy in our world. At least she was free.”

Kurotsuchi rolled his eyes. “Of course the women are free to do as they like, no matter how nonsensical, even Nemu. I let her run off and marry the man, didn’t I? But I expect her to come to work. She’s a thousand times more useful than any of these fools,” he declared, waving a dismissive hand toward the unconscious shinigami that littered the street. “You’ll see when you’re a father. Children never remember the duty they owe their parents.”

Ishida did not particularly appreciate being reminded of his own father and his frown deepened. “Are you going to fight me or whine about your daughter all day?” he demanded.

Kurotsuchi stared at him for a moment with indecision clear on his face. “Were you trained by Urahara Kisuke?” he asked finally.

“No,” Ishida answered. “I’m a Quincy. I would never accept anything from a shinigami, even training.”

“Then I have no interest in you,” Kurotsuchi declared, turning away.

“Aren't you under orders to capture all of us?” Ishida called after him.

“Orders bore me,” Kurotsuchi answered, and with that he left.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro stood well out of the way as the two captains looked over Aizen’s body, and Nemu stood, completely silent, beside him. She had played the part of desperate and terrified wife very well. She appeared suddenly, kneeling beside Ukitake’s still form, in the center of the largest of the division’s hospital rooms, within the swirling white cloth of Sentan Hakuja.

She’d shouted at the workers to fetch the captain; Shiro’d stopped breathing. He was gray and still as death, laying on the hard floor. Even knowing the whole thing was a farce, Toshiro’d felt a stab of real fear before Unohana came and Ukitake coughed up a flood of bright red blood and managed to take a few deep breaths.

After that, the sickly captain had been taken to his usual room, and the Fourth Division went back to its work, treating all the shinigami injured by Ryoka over the past day.

Hours had passed since his arrival, but that, too, had been to allay any possible suspicion, but Ukitake had finally declared he had to see Aizen’s body and Unohana had permitted it, and now, Ukitake and Kyoraku were questioning Unohana as they looked over Aizen’s broken body.

Toshiro kept quiet as he listened to them. They clearly knew more than he did about what was going on, but he would wait to question them.

“Looks like there’s no other choice,” Kyoraku said finally. “If Unohana can’t tell, it isn’t likely we’re going to--you think you’re up to it?”

Ukitake smiled. “When I’m not I will consider retiring like everyone is always telling me to.”

He took a step back from the table where the body lay, and the two other captains stepped well back. Toshiro raised his head, curious to see another captain’s bankai. They were often kept secret, even when the power and type of zanpakuto they carried was known, the details of their abilities were rarely shared.

Ukitake drew Sogyo no Kotowari, raising the single blade in his right hand and meeting the hilt with his left. He spoke the single word, “Bankai,” and drew his hands apart, the blade splitting into two, tied together by a length of cord and shining silver charms. 

“Waves of the infinite seas, wash away the attacks of my enemies,” He spoke so softly and calmly that Toshiro wasn’t prepared for the enormity of the power of bankai when it hit. It was not a wave of water but reiatsu, a devastating and utterly overwhelming force washed outward from one of the twin blades, like a tsunami, it simply washed away anything that tried to withstand it.

Toshiro knew it would easily have washed away any of Hyorinmaru’s attacks, and it would have taken pouring out matching reiatsu to maintain shikai or bankai forms, and he wasn’t sure he could have done it without completely exhausting himself. With no one here to maintain it, the illusion had no chance.

Aizen’s body crumbled into sparkling reishi in the wave of reiatsu and then the wave withdrew, pulling back to the opposite sword, and drawing the reishi with it. All the reiatsu that had been used to form the illusion had now become Ukitake’s. In a fight, his enemy’s attacks would strengthen his own. Toshiro suddenly realized Ukitake Jushiro would be a formidable opponent.

But then the captain’s knees buckled, and the twin blades fell to the floor and were one again. Everyone rushed to Ukitake, except Toshiro, who stood and stared, realizing that what his father had suggested, which had sounded so cruel and pointless, could in fact have been a part of their enemy’s strategy.

“You were getting better,” Toshiro said suddenly, “But then you got worse. Could someone have made you worse?”

Nemu was the first to respond, she spun around so quickly it was almost frightening, and her eyes flashed with more emotion than Toshiro’d ever seen her show before. “Someone made him worse?” she demanded, and her voice promised fierce and immediate revenge.

“I don’t know--but he is a threat--and my dad said--” He broke off when every set of eyes was suddenly on him. These people, Unohana, Kyoraku, and Ukitake, he had always considered them the wisest, most clear-thinking, and most trustworthy people in the Gotei, and Nemu was much the same, though she had an oddness that made him a little less certain about her, but he had never seen them looking like they did right now. They had never looked dangerous before.

“What did your father say, Shiro-kun?” Kyoraku asked, gently, but that slow to wake anger was building in his eyes. Kyoraku protected his own. It was the reason Toshiro had chosen to hide his family within the Eighth Captain's division. He knew there was no limit to how far Kyoraku would go to protect those placed in his care--but now he was seeing the other side of that. His father had suggested hurting Ukitake and his first instinct was to point out that he was not on his father's side.

But that instinct came from fear, and Toshiro refused to allow himself to feel any fear. “He was here earlier, poking around like he always does when something happens, and I got mad at him, and I thought he was just messing with me, but he asked me why Captain Ukitake started getting sick again when Nemu had made him so much better.”

Unohana frowned slightly. “I wondered, but I thought that perhaps a temporary improvement was the best we could hope for. If there was something more to it,” she turned and looked down at Ukitake sitting and breathing deeply, with Nemu standing like a guard over him. “I am sorry, Jushiro. If I had realized I might have been able to help you.”

“He’s the traitor, isn’t he?” Toshiro said. “My father’s the traitor.”

Ukitake shook his head. “We don’t know, Shiro-chan.”

“We know he’s involved,” Kyoraku said, “But we’re not sure what side he’s on. You know how hard he is to read. Even what he said to you today, you seem to think he was taunting you, but it could have been a warning. They have already prepared for any possible threat we could offer.”

He looked back at Ukitake. “You had a bad spell not long after Miyako ran into that Arrancar, ‘bout when you started poking around the Twelfth’s records, and you never really got much better, probably would have given up the search entirely if Kaien-kun hadn’t gone and talked to Urahara. If he didn’t cause it, that downturn of yours was mighty convenient.”

“If it’s not my dad, then who are you talking about? You all seem to know,” Toshiro said. “Who’s doing this and why?”

Kyoraku sighed. “According to Urahara Kisuke, he was framed one hundred years ago for experimenting on shinigami by the same man who is now plotting to bring about the death of Kuchiki Rukia to attain ever greater power: Aizen Sosuke.”


	63. Chapter 63

Toshiro had never felt so stupid. Aizen was behind everything. Of course, it was obvious when he thought about it. Who else would be pulling his father’s strings? Who but the man who’d taken him under his wing and trained him and advanced him so rapidly through the ranks, brought him to a position of power as a captain--and Tosen, too, his other protege, another captain. Aizen had always been known for finding and training the best. So many of the senior officers had been chosen by him and trained by him. Even Toshiro, himself, had studied kido and pushed his abilities with ice and cold under Aizen’s guidance, and so now, with all the evidence piled up against Aizen, he still had to fight the loyalty that Aizen had built within him to accept that the man he had trusted so completely was his enemy.

Who else was there? Hinamori would never accept that Aizen was her enemy, even if she wasn’t a part of his plot like Tosen and Gin. Then there was Kira; he probably wouldn’t willingly turn against Soul Society, but he would be easily manipulated by Gin and Aizen, both of whom he trusted absolutely. And Hisagi, the man worshipped his captain, and had also been one of Aizen’s prize picks; Kyoraku might be sure he would side with them if it came down to it, but he could easily be mistaken. And Captain Komamura was much like Hisagi; he’d served under Aizen, and certainly felt some level of loyalty to him, but his loyalty to Tosen was absolute. Of the others who’d trained under Aizen there probably wasn’t too much to worry about. The other lieutenant, Renji, would be for them because Rukia’s life was at stake, but he would have at least as much difficulty as Toshiro seeing Aizen as the enemy.

Kyoraku had returned to the Eighth, and Ukitake had gone to bed, and Captain Kurotsuchi had appeared to scold his daughter for her uselessness. Even Unohana had returned to her work. Every one of those captains knew the danger that was facing Soul Society and every one of them had agreed that for now all that could be done was to watch and wait and prepare. Only Toshiro wanted to take action.

He wandered the Fourth, trying to decide if it was just childish impatience that made him want to act now or if it was something more. He felt like Aizen had been preparing for a century, and no amount of preparation now on their part could possibly stop him if they allowed him to follow his plan, only if they did something big to disrupt it, did Toshiro feel they had any chance of stopping him--only Urahara hadn’t told them why Aizen needed Rukia to die, so they didn’t even know what exactly it was they were trying to stop!

The sound of laughter interrupted his thoughts. And then he heard the familiar voice of the Third Seat of the Eleventh swearing loudly. “Damn, Ichigo did a number on you, Captain! You look worse than I did yesterday!”

Toshiro took a step back and looked into the room. Captain Zaraki Kenpachi was wrapped in an impressive number of bandages, but he was chuckling. “He sure did,” the captain agreed, getting slowly to his feet, so he towered above his two senior officers, Ikkaku and Yumichika. He scratched idly at one of his bandages for a moment, before speaking. “Think I’m about ready for a rematch--you boys ready to go home? This place is damned boring.”

“Yes, sir!” Ikkaku agreed enthusiastically, and beside him Yumichika shrugged.

Kenpachi turned toward the door, noticing Toshiro for the first time. “Hey, Chibi-captain Ichimaru, what brings you to the Fourth? You’re not looking too banged up.”

Toshiro frowned at the title, but didn’t bother to object. Knowing Kenpachi, if he didn’t put up with that nickname he’d start using Yachiru’s nickname for him and somehow ‘Captain Snowflake’ seemed even worse. “I came to hear what Captain Unohana learned from Aizen’s autopsy. Then Captain Ukitake had another attack so I stayed to make sure he was alright.”

Kenpachi made a sour face at that. Toshiro knew Kenpachi didn’t think much of getting taken down by illness, it had none of the glory or honor of battle wounds, but could kill you just as dead. He had about as much intention of letting an illness get him as he had of lasting long enough to let old age bring him down.

“Shit,” Ikkaku muttered. “Think I’d rather take a one way trip to Hueco Mundo than live like that.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a coward,” Kenpachi told him.

“The hell I am!” Ikkaku protested. “I’ve never backed down from any--”

“Fuckin’ terrified of an enemy you can’t fight. S’alright, we all are, pretty much, Still--least you aren’t like Yumichika--who the hell gives up ‘cause their hair gets messed up?” Kenpachi demanded, reaching out and lifting the wig from Yumichika’s head.

“Captain, please,” Yumichika protested, although he could barely be heard over Ikkaku’s near hysterical laughter. “I would rather die than be seen like this.”

“You got some fucked up priorities,” Kenpachi told him, but he smashed the wig back down over the frizz.

Then he turned back to Toshiro. “What about you, Chibi? What are you most afraid of?”

Three hours later, Toshiro had an answer for Kenpachi. Lieutenant Hinamori Momo, the closest friend he had in the entire Gotei, was holding her zanpakuto to challenge him. She looked half-mad with rage and grief, and the accusations she shouted at him were completely insane.

He knew Aizen had spent years preparing her for this, working in tiny, little lies with all the comfort and wisdom he gave her, but it still hurt to hear her accuse him. He had never done anything but be a friend to her, and she was willing to believe he was a plotting villain, that he was a monster set on conquering all of Soul Society, and why? Because a letter from Aizen had told her so.

“He’s not even dead!” Toshiro shouted at her as he dodged a kido blast. That would have hurt! She was really trying to kill him! 

“Aizen faked his death!” he shouted more loudly. He didn’t even care if it was supposed to be a secret anymore. He just wanted her to know. He wasn’t her enemy; Aizen was.

“Liar!” she screamed back, launching an even more fierce flurry of attacks, forcing him to release Hyorinmaru just to defend himself.

“How could you?” she demanded again and again. 

She hit him with more strength than he’d ever known she had. He should have expected it. Aizen had chosen her and trained her. He should have known she had the potential. She was a lieutenant. He had to fight her like a lieutenant.

But the moment he knocked her back with his ice-shielded arm she went down, crumpling like a paper doll.

Toshiro froze, absolutely overwhelmed by what he’d done. “Hinamori?” he said softly, forcing himself to take one step closer to her still form.

“That’s the thing about people out for revenge; they’re unbelievable on offense, but they do tend to neglect their defense.”

Toshiro spun around. There was his father, looking down on him from the ridge of a tile-topped wall, smiling like always.

He lashed out immediately, sending an ice dragon hurtling directly at Gin, and then through the air, chasing after the dodging captain.

“What have I done this time?” Gin asked, as he shunpoed from one spot to another along the wall and the nearby rooftops. “You’re the one who knocked the poor lieutenant out.”

Toshiro raised Hyorinmaru, calling the ice dragon back. “You’re right. You’re not even worth getting angry at. You’re just Aizen’s stooge.”

“Oi! I’m at least a henchman,” Gin protested. “Maybe even the right-hand man; impressive, don’t you think, for a nobody from Rukongai?”

“I think you’re both traitors, and you deserve to die,” Toshiro said.

“Are you hitting your dramatic stage?” Gin asked. “I’ve heard children have those, stages that is--anyway, I was wondering if you could do me a favor and take a message to your mother, since you don’t want me seeing her.”

“What?” Toshiro demanded.

“Well, you know,” Gin looked away. “I did want to tell her--tell her I'm sorry, alright?” He turned back abruptly, smiling as big as ever. “Might make her feel a little better, don't you think?”

“I'm not going to lie to her!”

“Not even for her--oh, well, guess I'll be going then,” Gin said lightly. Then he turned away.

Behind him Toshiro called out, “Bankai: Daiguren Hyorinmaru!”

Great wings of ice formed on his back lifting him into the air as ice flowed over the blade and down his arms and claws of ice grew from his feet. Three four petaled flowers appeared in the air above him, marking the time he had in bankai.

Gin smiled, even as the boy dived at him, and blocked his attack with Shinso before moving back. He could probably keep it up forever, blocking and dodging; Shiro had never gotten as fast as him. “Come on, you can do better than that!” he said, as he narrowly avoided getting caught in a band of ice.

“Why?” Toshiro demanded, suddenly. “You have everything! Why would you betray everyone?”

“First loyalty to your captain, right?” Gin said, pushing back against Toshiro’s attacks for the first time, putting the boy on the defensive. “But, really, what reason do I need? It’s been fun. Isn’t that enough?”

Toshiro snarled and swung Hyorinmaru furiously, knocking Gin off balance just long enough to catch his left wrist with the zanpakuto’s chain. Ice sprung instantly from the cold links, coating Gin’s arm and quickly growing. 

“I hate you!” Toshiro roared, attacking as forcefully as he could with the chain caught. “I hate you!”

Gin was forced to block Hyorinmaru one handed with the much smaller Shinso. The ice had grown from his left hand and now had trapped his leg and pinned him to the roof. He was in a bit of a jam, but he wasn’t the sort to let it show.

“I’ve heard all children tell their parents that, sooner or later,” he said, lightly, and smiled as he noticed Hinamori was finally waking up.

“Shoot to kill!” The silver blade flashed across the distance. Toshiro dodged it easily, but Hinamori let out a shriek as the blade bit into the ground an inch from her face.

Toshiro spun around, giving Gin the second he needed to free himself. Then he vanished, using shunpo to race away at a speed he knew Toshiro could not match.

“Shiro-kun,” Hinamori’s voice was very weak as he rushed to her.

“It’s ok, Momo. You’re going to be ok,’ he said as he quickly looked her over. He had expected to find her bleeding, that his father hadn’t left a scratch was almost unbelievable.

As he was bending over her, Hinamori reached up and touched his face, wiping away a tear he hadn’t even known was there. “It’s him, isn’t it, Shiro-kun? He’s the one. He made you help him, but you didn’t want to--you couldn’t hurt me.”

Toshiro didn’t even try to argue with her. She could believe what she wanted if that’d help her sleep better.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

He’d finally managed to convince Miyako and Ganju to go home. There was nothing either of them could do but they had stood outside Kaien’s prison for hours, talking with him, arguing with him, and mostly making his guards really nervous that a prison break might be staged at any moment.

But they had finally gone and Kaien was laying back on the cot, trying to sleep, but knowing it was impossible.

The slightest of breezes passed by, and suddenly there was another presence in the room.

Kaien shot to his feet and stood staring in disbelief at his unexpected visitor. “Captain?”

Ukitake stood on the other side of the wooden bars, his long white hair shimmering in the dim light. “Lieutenant, I am afraid we must act quickly or things may go very wrong for all of Soul Society.”


	64. Chapter 64

Kaien followed his captain in absolute silence, first past prison guards lying unconscious at their posts and then on through the dark city. He had never seen his captain like this before, using stealth and speed to avoid sentries as they followed the most rapid path from the prison cell to the Sokyoku Hill and the long bridge to the sealed and guarded door of the Senzaikyu.

“Captain?” Kaien asked again as Ukitake seemed to discard all caution as he stepped forward onto the bridge. The guards could not have missed him. Even in the starlight the white captain’s haori and his hair were bright in the surrounding darkness.

“There is no longer any time to delay. Rukia must be rescued tonight. I will deal with the guards and any others who may try to stop us. I ask only that you take Rukia to Captain Kyoraku; he has a place he can hide her. No matter what happens, she must be saved. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Kaien answered quickly. He didn’t like this at all. He had a thousand arguments, but there was no time. They were nearly across the bridge. The two guards had already stepped forward to meet them. They showed no signs that they imagined Ukitake and his lieutenant to be a threat, but if Rukia was going to be rescued, they were going to have to be dealt with very soon.

Ukitake walked calmly up to the guards and nodded his head very slightly. “Good evening, gentlemen,” he said softly.

Both men answered in unison, bowing politely. “Good evening, Captain.”

“You have kept a good and faithful watch over my subordinate. For that I thank you.” He reached out one hand to each man, a kind pat on the shoulder from the gentlest of captains, and it looked to Kaien like he simply flicked each man with his fore and middle fingers and both slammed back into the tower wall and slumped to the ground, unconscious.

He took one quick step forward as he drew Sogyo no Kotowari and swung the single blade into the prison door.

The door and much of the wall shattered.

“Fetch Rukai quickly. Her brother will be coming,” he said, as he turned and walked past Kaien back across the bridge.

Kaien had to force himself to move. He had never felt such a shock in his life as he did at the moment he watched his captain, Ukitake Jushiro, knock two innocent men unconscious. He ran into the tower calling for Rukia.

The girl must have been sleeping near the door. She was sitting up slowly, looking toward Kaien with the muddled expression of one still half asleep. She looked so small and helpless, blinking at him in confusion, that Kaien pushed away all of his own concerns, scooping her up and running back toward the bridge as quickly as he could.

An immense reiatsu hit them as Kaien set foot on the bridge, and a moment later the Captain of the Sixth appeared.

He was on the far side of the bridge, glaring at Ukitake with unconcealed rage. “You, Captain, of all--”

“Hado 90: Kurohitsugi!” Ukitake hit him before he finished speaking. Then even as the kido was encasing Byakuya in a cube of darkness he turned and shouted at Kaien, “Run!”

Kaien took off even as another kido exploded behind him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Nemu awoke suddenly, trying to shake off the lingering darkness of a dream that was fading more quickly than even her mind could grasp it. She was left with only a deep and aching fear. She reached out a hand to the one who could banish the fear with his simple presence.

But he was gone and the bed was cold. “Shiro-chan?” she whispered.

“I’m here.”

She rolled over quickly to see her husband sitting only a few feet away. He was sitting on the tatami, looking out over the division garden, as was his habit. He had an extra blanket pulled over his shoulders, and he looked terribly tired, but he still turned and smiled at her.

“Why are you not sleeping?” Nemu asked.

“I’m afraid we should have acted years ago. Sosuke-kun was always brilliant, and we have given him all the time he wanted to prepare. Whatever we do now, I’m afraid we may simply be playing into his hand.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Kyoraku Shunsui was not sleeping either, but for a very different reason. “Don’t you think, Rangiku-chan, that you might have had enough?” he said as clearly as he could. The liters of sake he had already consumed was beginning to have a deleterious effect on his diction.

“Why?” she demanded, trying to glare back at him, but not really managing it because she was just too drunk.

Ichimaru Rangiku was a bit of a puzzle to Kyoraku. He liked her, of course. Everyone did; it was impossible not to like the kind, friendly lieutenant, who seemed to think it her life’s mission to share her happiness with the world at large. Even people who looked down on her for her uncouth manner--Kyoraku’d heard her called ‘trashy’ more than once--she wore her Rukongai upbringing with pride, refusing to cooperate with the expectations of Seiretei or the Gotei--but even so, Kyoraku had watched even the proudest of nobles somehow find themselves conversing with the woman as an equal and even a friend.

She was an absolutely adoring mother, keeping her children close whenever possible; even now the baby girl was sleeping in a little cradle Nanao had used for Aiko only inches from Rangiku’s chair. She would do anything for her children, and that’s why she was here. Toshiro needed her to be safe, and, for now, at least, that trumped her own need to be with Gin.

Because she very obviously needed to be with Gin. They were an odd couple: the girl who loved everyone and the boy who loved no one. Gin was not the first broken child to ever join the Gotei. There were a few districts of the Rukongai that excelled in producing them, perfect liars and thieves, who trusted no one and could never be trusted. They didn’t usually last long in the Gotei; quite a few ended up in prison and the rest, well, the only way most shinigami survived their first years in the Gotei was by relying on each other; those who didn’t work well with others died. But not Gin, because he was strong, and he was intelligent, and he was a survivor. He found himself a perfect mentor in Aizen--in retrospect, Kyoraku had to admit that alone should have made him suspicious of Aizen, taking in a child like that, but instead he had thought Aizen had seen Gin’s potential and believed that with careful guidance he could reshape the boy into a real leader within the Gotei.

But, of course, that hadn’t happened. Broken souls don’t heal easily, and Aizen had had no intention of helping Gin, instead he had used him, turning him into an almost perfect servant. 

Only maybe both he and Aizen had been wrong about Gin, and the simple, kind and currently very drunk girl from Rukongai had been right. Maybe Ichimaru Gin had a heart. Maybe he had spared Miyako’s life that night and even now was trying to find a way to stop Aizen. Kyoraku doubted it, but Rangiku, even as she sat, drinking herself to oblivion, did not doubt for a second that her husband loved her and would never, ever betray her.

“Well, I was just thinking about Yuki-chan--”

“Have you ever nursed a baby?” Rangiku demanded, sitting up abruptly and spilling half her sake on the table.

“Nanao-chan never drank--”

“Don’t even try to tell me about perfect Nanao! I could be perfect too if my husband would cook and clean and change diapers--I swear, Gin stole every move the stealth squad has just to get out of diaper duty! And crying babies! If you ever wondered what can bring true terror to a captain of the Gotei--”

There was a soft knock at the door. Both Rangiku and Kyoraku turned immediately and stared. It was nearly two in the morning. Who had the guts to knock on Lieutenant Ise’s door at two?

Rangiku gasped, “Gin?” And jumped to her feet.

But Kyoraku beat her to the door. He set a hand on the hilt of his zanpakuto before he pulled open the door.

Kaien stood in the doorway, breathing heavily and holding a trembling and terrified girl in his arms. She was Kuchiki Rukia.

“What’s going on?” Kyoraku demanded.

Kaien’s eyes rose slowly to the captain’s face. He looked almost as confused as the captain did by the captain’s question. “Didn’t Captain Ukitake discuss it with you?”


	65. Chapter 65

Ichimaru Gin watched with a broad smile as the Punishment Force spread out around the Thirteenth Division. It seemed like a pointless exercise. Not one of them would be useful if Soifon expected a fight, and if she didn’t then why didn’t she just walk right in the front gate and request Captain Ukitake turn himself in? That’s what he would have done. Captain Ukitake always had such nice manners; he’d probably surrender just to be polite.

But Soifon slipped over the wall with a few of her top officers--wisely excluding Omaeda--and crossed the grounds unnoticed by anyone but Gin.

He followed behind at a safe distance, not that he expected a fight, but you never knew; Nemu would not be happy.

The Thirteenth really was a beautiful place, especially when you reached the garden surrounding the captain’s quarters. Gardening was one of the captain’s hobbies, when he was well enough, and the members of the division, knowing how much their captain loved it, tended it conscientiously in his absence.

Gin chose a nice smooth rock to sit on beside a pretty little pond, beneath the concealing branches of weeping willow and got out a bag of dried persimmons. He really was going to enjoy the show.

It was like watching a movie in the World of the Living. The shoji doors to the captain’s bedroom were wide open, framing the quiet morning scene. Nemu was up, wearing only a thin silk kimono the same vivid green as her eyes, and sitting in the sunlight. She was running a brush through her long hair as she spoke softly to Ukitake who Gin could just barely see, still laying in bed.

It looked like a nice pleasant morning, and Gin wondered briefly if he and Rangiku had ever had such a morning, undisturbed by yelling children and demands for breakfast. He couldn’t seem to remember any.

But this wasn’t going to be a nice, quiet morning for the captain and his wife. Four figures in the black uniforms of the Punishment Force appeared simultaneously. Nemu was little more than a blur as she leapt to her feet and launched an attack at the two who’d clearly thought holding a couple knives on her would be enough to restrain her.

She blocked their attacks with ease; she was faster and stronger than either. She knocked one off the porch and into the pond with a swift kick to the gut and the other staggered back from a punch to the face. Then she was on the ones who threatened Ukitake. She grabbed the nearer before he had time to turn and simply threw him out of the way, but as she raised her fist to strike at the last, Soifon with her zanpakuto a golden claw decorating her right hand, Ukitake spoke.

“Stop, please, Nemu,” he said and the woman froze.

She was absolutely gorgeous. Her emerald eyes flashed with rage and her cheeks were flushed red with exertion. Her chest was heaving with each breath she took, and her silk kimono barely clung to her perfect body. Gin had to wonder how Soifon’s men had managed to fight back at all, but then they really had made a fairly poor showing for the force that was supposed to be able to subdue any threat to Soul Society.

“Soifon,” Ukitake continued. “I don’t know why you are here, but if you intend to arrest me, I will, of course, come in without a fight.”

“Shiro-chan, you can’t!” Nemu protested.

“If I have been accused of some crime I will defend myself, but I will do so within the bounds of the law,” Ukitake answered as he slowly climbed to his feet. “To do otherwise would be a betrayal of my duty and my office.”

Nemu lowered her arms slowly, and Soifon did the same. The captain kept her sharp eyes on both Ukitake and Nemu and remained tensed for action, but Nemu had relaxed completely, turning her back on Soifon to speak to Ukitake.

“If that is what you wish,” she told him. “But it seems wrong to me to endure such treatment when we have done nothing wrong.”

“It’s only Captain Ukitake I’ve been ordered to arrest, but I’ll take you in too if you give me any more trouble,” Soifon answered.

She glanced quickly over her men; the one Nemu had tossed out of her way was the only one standing, although he seemed to be favoring one ankle, while the one she’d hit in the face was dripping blood as he slumped against a cracked wooden post and the man in the pond had been rescued by another member of the Force. Her frown deepened, but she gestured to the man who was still standing, and he limped forward.

He passed Nemu warily and stopped in front of Ukitake, pulling out a set of heavy cuffs. Even with his face concealed by a mask, he seemed frightened, and Gin caught the sigh of relief when Captain Ukitake offered his wrists without protest.

“I am sure Captain Soifon has a very good reason for this,” Ukitake said, and he looked over at the other captain, frowning. “May I know what it is I am accused of?”

“Captain Unohana was able to revive the men who were guarding Rukia, and they remembered their attacker, and when Captain Kuchiki regains consciousness I’m sure he will as well,” Soifon said forcefully. “I know you were unhappy with her sentence, and I am unsurprised that you would risk your own freedom to save her, but I never imagined you would be willing to hurt innocent--”

Nemu was looking back and forth between the two captains in confusion, and Gin grinned as shock shifted to horrified understanding on the white-haired captain’s face. It was more than a little vindicating to see someone else finally understand how complete Aizen’s trap was.

“I never have,” Ukitake interrupted. “And I never will. I have been here since I left the Fourth late yesterday; Nemu can tell you I never left. It was not me those guards saw. It was an imposter.”

“An imposter who broke your lieutenant out of prison and brought him along? It had to be you--how many other people, even captains, could best Kuchiki using only kido?” Soifon demanded. “You are the only one with any motive, the only one who feels the need to protect Rukia.”

Ukitake nodded, and Gin sighed. He’d hoped at the very least the captain would be taken away protesting his innocence. Some people really didn’t seem to know how to put on a proper show.

Even his last words to Nemu lacked drama. He simply looked at her for a moment, and Gin supposed the gaze was meaningful, but all he said was, “Please, be careful.”

Nemu nodded. Then she looked over at Soifon and said, “You will be careful of his health.” There was a definite threat in her tone, and Gin wondered if it might be worth one more round of poison just to see what Nemu might do to Soifon if her husband fell ill in prison.

Soifon ignored the other woman, and, with Captain Ukitake in tow, left the division.


	66. Chapter 66

Ichimaru Toshiro was about ready to scream. When Lieutenant Abarai had come to him at four in the morning he had thought the man had to be mad. For one thing he was supposed to be locked up so what was he coming to a captain for? But then when he said his captain had been attacked and someone had taken Rukia, Toshiro had perked up.

Renji had seen the Stealth Squad transport the three injured men to the Fourth in secret and had followed them there, hoping to hear what had happened and to get a lead on Rukia. But he had only been there a few minutes when this kid, ‘Hana-something or other’ had come up to him with a note from Unohana herself.

The note had been to Toshiro so Renji had come to deliver it and because of that he was now sitting on a tower roof, overlooking the Eighth Division, repressing every ounce of his reiatsu, and watching the Punishment Force and the Kido Squad search the grounds for any sign of Kuchiki Rukia. Captain Kyoraku and his lieutenant were standing in the first court with the General. Soifon had taken several dozen men with her to the Thirteenth, but even though Captain Ukitake was the one a guard had identified as his attacker, the General was here. It was clear who of his two students he considered the greater threat.

Toshiro glanced at the note again. Unohana had kept it short and almost incomprehensible; he supposed that was because she wasn’t quite sure of Renji, even if the idiot was in love with Rukia. It is as we feared, was all it said. So Aizen did know they had discovered his secret and he had made his move first, and with one illusion he had removed his two greatest threats.

What he had done with Rukia and why he needed her were probably the two questions Toshiro should be most focused on at the moment, but he needed to see what, if anything, was going to happen to his mother first. If Rukia was hidden within the Eighth, which the General seemed to suspect, then she’d damned well better not be with his mother.

Eventually they seemed to have searched everywhere, including Nanao’s home, and he watched the heads of the different units confer with the General. Then they were splitting up and Toshiro watched in shock as Nanao was escorted to her home by Second Division guards and Kyoraku was led toward the gate in chains.

That was when Lieutenant Hisagi arrived. He ran straight toward the General only to be stopped by the pole arms of the General’s own guards. He looked extremely upset, like he might even be shouting at them. Toshiro felt vaguely sorry for him. He was in the absolute center of the mess, but because of his loyalty to Tosen he had been kept nearly completely in the dark. Kyoraku had said something about him deserving proof if they were going to ask him to be part of their plans.

In the end, Hisagi backed away from his adopted father and his escort and turned for a moment to look at his wife, under guard if not yet arrested. Then he turned and left the division. Toshiro frowned, wondering how badly they were going to regret not explaining anything to Tosen’s lieutenant.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku looked up as Nanao came inside. Kinta was still glued to the window, watching the shinigami and explaining to Aiko, incorrectly, what was going on. Yuki had already been fed and was whimpering as Rangiku walked her back and forth across the room, patting her back. For once she didn’t mind the baby’s crying; she felt about the same.

“They’ve taken Captains Kyoraku and Ukitake into custody. And they know Rukia was here, but they don’t know if we knew so we’re not under arrest. We’re just confined here for the duration,” Nanao said, dropping onto the couch with her arms folded across her chest.

“That’s stupid,” Rangiku said.  
“I agree.”

\-----

*Four Hours Earlier*

Kaien stood in the doorway, breathing heavily and holding a trembling and terrified girl in his arms. She was Kuchiki Rukia.

“What’s going on?” Kyoraku demanded.  
Kaien’s eyes rose slowly to the captain’s face. He looked almost as confused as the captain did by the captain’s question. “Didn’t Captain Ukitake discuss it with you?”

“Put her down!’ Rangiku ordered, pushing past Kyoraku and pulling Rukia from Kaien’s arms. “How are you, Rukia-chan?”

Rukia blinked her wide eyes once more. “I think I must be dreaming,” she said slowly. “First Ichigo, now Captain Ukitake and Kaien-san. I don’t understand why everyone is trying to rescue me. I’m not innocent. I did give Ichigo my power. I don’t want to be executed, but I’ve accepted my fate. I don’t want anyone else to risk their lives for me. I’m not worth that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Rangiku said, tugging Rukia into the room and sitting her down at the table. She poured a cup of sake and handed it to the girl. “Here, drink this. You’ll feel a lot better.”

Kaien had also stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Captain Ukitake said you would have somewhere to hide her,” he said to Kyoraku. “I assumed everything had already been arranged.”

Kyoraku frowned and turned to watch Rukia as Rangiku wrapped a throw around her and brought her some food. Funny how quickly the woman could transform from drunken slob to mother hen.

“He never mentioned anything like this,” Kyoraku said slowly. “Of course I don’t want the girl executed, but this--where is Ukitake? I’d appreciate an explanation if he’s going to dump a couple of fugitives on me.”

“He was fighting Captain Kuchiki, sir, to give us time to escape--he seemed more than able to handle Kuchiki,” he added, when Kyoraku turned an unpleasant shade of gray. 

“Well,” Kyoraku said, forcing a beaming smile and turning back to the women. “What are we going to do with you? You’re safe here for the moment, but I don’t think Nanao-chan would be too pleased with me if I turned her home into a hotel for the unfortunate. She already has Rangiku and crew here as a favor to Toshiro.”

“Is Captain Ichimaru here?” Rukia asked abruptly, looking quickly from Rangiku to the sleeping baby as though she’d suddenly remembered Rangiku came with a collection of other people--and there was at least one she was more than a little afraid of.

Rangiku tried to smile. “No, Toshiro’s working on finding Aizen’s killer, and--and Gin is too. I’m just staying here because they didn’t want me at the Third by myself with a killer running around free.”

Rukia nodded.

“But you never know when one of them might drop in to check on you, so we’d better find somewhere safer for Rukia-chan. I’ve half a mind to send her to Urahara, but building a Senkaimon’s bound to attract attention, and I’ve no doubt they’ll have someone watching the Shiba Estate to see if you try to take her through yours.”

Kaien let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s not like Captain Ukitake to act so rashly,” he said.

“No, it isn’t,” Kyoraku agreed. “I wonder what happened to make him decide it was necessary.”

“If you’re looking for a place like this,” Rangiku said, slowly. “I mean a house with barriers to keep out enemies and to hide reiatsu, I know one close by. It’s empty, and no one’s going to think to look there. I don’t think anyone even knows it exists anymore.”

By the time she finished speaking, everyone in the room was staring at her.

“Gin makes me keep the key with me,” she said softly, and she set a small key on the table. “He wanted me to have a place to go--if anything ever happened.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Hisagi Shuhei was pretty much as far from happy as he’d ever been in his life. His adopted father had just been arrested for conspiracy to commit treason, and had not said one word in his own defense. He didn’t really understand Kyoraku; the man was a mass of contradictions, a hard drinking skirt chaser whose main hobbies seemed to be avoiding work and making his lieutenant miserable, but at the same time he had stepped up immediately when Nanao’s family had objected to Shuhei and given him the noble position her family demanded. He had not only made Shuhei family on paper though; he had brought him into the family, treating Shuhei, who’d never had any family, like a real son, and during that time he’d gotten to know Kyoraku Shunsui somewhat better. The man was nobody’s fool; behind that wide, often drunken, smile was a sharp mind. He saw far more than anyone realized and understood the truths people tried to keep hidden. It made no sense to Shuhei that Kyoraku would do what they accused him of, but when he’d looked at Nanao and seen her face, he’d known. He couldn’t begin to guess why, but he knew they’d helped Rukia to escape.

He’d known something was going on; ever since that bottle of vodka from Urahara they’d been up to something, and it had been frustrating to find himself on the outside again. He’d been pretty short with Nanao, too, which really wasn’t fair; she had to obey her captain. If Kyoraku told her not to tell him something, she didn’t really have a choice--but treason!

“Damn it, Nanao!” he muttered to himself. Didn’t she know there was a limit to how far you could follow even your captain?

“Hisagi-kun.”

Shuhei started at the sound of his captain’s voice. He looked up in surprise to find Tosen had come after him. He’d left the division abruptly that morning as soon as he’d heard what was happening at the Eighth. He wasn’t sure now what he’d intended to do, but it had seemed very important at the time that he be there.

“Are you alright?” Tosen asked, surprising Shuhei. His captain wasn’t the sort who was really interested in the personal issues of his subordinates. He mostly seemed to think they shouldn’t have any.

“Captain Kyoraku helped Kuchiki Rukia escape; I don’t understand why,” Shuhei admitted.

“Some people are not strong enough to put aside their feelings for the cause of justice,” Tosen answered. “They allow their personal loyalties to come before their duty. I’m afraid I was not surprised to hear Captain Ukitake had broken his subordinate out of the Senzaikyu, nor that Captain Kyoraku would help him to hide her. They are both unfortunately ruled by their own emotions. I believe Lieutenant Ise acted only out of a sense of duty to her captain, and I do not think she will be dealt with too harshly. A lieutenant is expected to trust his or her captain’s judgment.”

Shuhei nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“If you need the day--”

“No, thank you, sir. I know this has made things worse, and I want to do my part. I will do whatever it takes to return Soul Society to peace and order.”

Tosen nodded. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

“Well, well, well,” Third Seat Madarame Ikkaku said, slowly as he hopped down from a convenient wall into a small, overgrown yard. “What do we have here?”

Shiba Kaien was sitting on the back doorstep with his head bowed against his palms. He didn’t even raise his head when Ikkaku spoke.

Yumichika dropped down beside Ikkaku and answered. “I really think you may be lucky. Finding Shiba here of all places.”

“Ichimaru’s old house, can’t believe he left all those barriers on it--thought it was overkill at the time--can’t imagine what he must be hiding here now,” Ikkaku said.

Kaien finally lifted his head. “Nothing but a futon and a teapot,” he said. “Maybe he just liked having another hole to run to in case something went wrong.”

He stood up with a sigh and set his hand on his zanpakuto. “I can’t let you take Rukia back, and I don’t suppose I can persuade you to forget you found me.”

He stepped forward and drew his zanpakuto from its sheath, taking a defensive stance. “It’s just you and me, right?” He said to Ikkaku. “And I get to fight Ayasegawa when you’re dead; that’s how it works with the Eleventh?”

“Damn!” Ikkaku swore, and he turned back to Yumichika. “You think the captain would notice if we had a quick fight before we take ‘em to him?”

“He was very clear. He doesn’t want us attracting any attention,” Yumichika answered. “But it’s not every day a lieutenant is willing to fight you for real--and I’ve heard rumors Lieutenant Shiba has a bankai.”

“Damn! Damn! Damn!” Ikkaku turned back to Kaien. “You owe me a fight later, you got that?”

Kaien frowned. “I think I’ve missed something.”

Yumichika spoke then. “The captain owes Ichigo so we’re going to help you with Rukia. We’ve already got his friends Orihime and Ishida at the division. Unfortunately, the Eighth picked up Chad yesterday, but we can get him back when they’re ready to go.”

“Captain Zaraki is planning to help Ichigo get Rukia out of Soul Society?” Kaien said, not really believing it was possible, but also knowing these two well enough to know a lie like that just wasn’t their style. “How?”

“What was your plan?” Ikkaku asked. “If it’s better than ours maybe we’ll use it.”

Kaien nearly laughed at that. That definitely sounded like the Eleventh. “You don’t have one, do you?”

“Nah,” Ikkaku agreed, grinning. “But we’re pretty good at winging it. What about you?”

Kaien returned his weapon to its sheath and sat back down. “I thought there was a plan, but I’m not sure anymore.”

“Yeah, kinda surprising they’d arrest your captain--and Kyoraku, too. That’s something. Makes you wonder if the whole damn place’s gone mad,” Ikkaku said like he didn’t really care one way or another. “Oh, kudos on your captain though, taking out Kuchiki like that, didn’t know he had it in him.”

“I’m not sure he did,” Kaien answered.


	67. Chapter 67

“Well, well,” Kyoraku said as he was led into the prison beneath the First Division. Seemed like Yama-ji wasn’t going to trust even the entire Punishment Force to keep him contained. He was both flattered and annoyed; it was nice of Yama-ji to think he could manage an escape, but also annoying because he had already thought of three different ways to escape Soifon’s if it turned out to be necessary. It was going to be a lot bigger pain with the old man breathing down his neck.

“At least the company’s good,” he said loudly.

Ukitake nearly jumped at the sound of Kyoraku's voice. He had been dozing on a cot in the cell across from the one Kyoraku was being shown into. He yawned and looked curiously over at Kyoraku and his escort of guards. “What are you doing down here?” he asked finally.

“Didn’t you hear? I’m your co-conspirator,” Kyoraku answered. “It seems I hid Rukia for you.”

Ukitake frowned, and for a moment he seemed to be thinking that over. “Really? That was very kind of you, I suppose,” he said finally. “I don’t remember having asked you to do so, but I’ve been informed I did a great deal I don’t remember. They say I sent Byakuya-kun to Division Four--that I do wish I could remember, I must have been impressive.”

“That’s what I heard,” Kyoraku agreed. He leaned against the bars of his cell to watch his escort walk away. All but two left; the final two guards turned and stood against the wall, staring down the single hall between the cells. “Don’t remember, eh?”

“I really thought I was with Nemu-chan, but I’ve been informed being with your wife is as good as having no alibi at all.”

“That’s only because they don’t know Nemu-chan, never met a worse liar in my life,” Kyoraku said, “I do understand their suspicions, two of your subordinates broken out on the same night, I'm afraid I believed it myself for a bit.”

“I am sorry about that,” Ukitake answered. “I hope it didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

“We’ll have to wait and see how it turns out. Everyone’s alright for now though,” Kyoraku answered, sitting down and patting his shihakusho looking for a pipe. He found one quickly, but no tobacco so that was a bit of a disappointment. “No sake either,” he mumbled to himself.

“Nor any tea,” Ukitake told him. “I think I would appreciate a nice, hot cup of tea right about now.”

Kyoraku raised his head and turned sharp eyes on his oldest friend. “You feeling alright?”

“I’m fine,” he answered, but Kyoraku didn’t miss the fact that he was shivering.

He got to his feet and called to the guards at the end of the hall. “Hey, one of you get the captain a blanket. Yama-ji’s not going to be very happy with you if your prisoner ends up at the Fourth because you let him catch cold.”

Ukitake smiled slightly when he saw one of the guards leave to fetch a blanket as directed. “Even in prison I get special treatment,” he said softly.

“That’s right,” Kyoraku agreed. “It's because we all just love you so much.”

“So nice of you. I do hate being a bother, even if I should be used to it by now.” He rubbed his forehead as he spoke, a telltale sign of a headache, and sighed. “I’m sorry, Shun. I’m sure you’re bored, but I think I’m going to have to lie down for a bit.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Kyoraku answered, but in his mind he was already going over various escape plans. Up to now he had only considered being locked up a bit inconvenient. If things got serious he knew Nanao’d find a way to let him know, and he’d break out. Otherwise he intended to let the others work things out; they were a clever bunch, and you really did have to let the young people take care of things themselves as much as they could; how else were they going to grow? But he’d be damned before he was going to let his friend relapse just because Yama-ji was too stubborn to listen to what was really going on.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Gin sat down on one of the tables on the lower level, avoiding the dried blood of one very dead member of Central 46 while being careful not to bump into the rotting corpse of another--who knew how long it’d take to get that smell out of his haori if he touched it. He watched Aizen release a Hell’s Butterfly before he spoke.

“Should I go get Rukia now or are we going to let them fight over her a bit first?” he asked.

“You know where she is?” Aizen asked.

“Well,” Gin said, slowly, scratching his head. “Can’t be anywhere too hard to find if she’s still with Shiba--he’s never been too sharp.”

“But Kyoraku is, and talented enough he was able to completely obscure Shiba’s path away from his division.”

“Maybe Tosen just wasn't paying attention,” Gin suggested. He had been on Central 46 duty the night before, while Aizen was out framing Ukitake. Tosen had been following Kaien, and had lost him at the Eighth.

“He’s less likely to have been distracted than you would have been,” Aizen answered dryly.

Gin was well aware of why he hadn’t been chosen to follow Kaien. It had definitely been the right call, but he didn’t have to admit it. “You think? Tosen always seems awfully interested in that lieutenant of his.”

“Gin,” Aizen said, his tone a clear rebuke.

He sighed. “They wouldn’t have let me in for a booty call anyway--well, Ran would, but everyone else would be against it--there are a few female Arrancar, aren’t there? In Las Noches?”

“There are, not that it will matter to you.” Aizen raised his head to look straight at Gin. “Do you think I’m not aware that the one and only woman you have ever slept with is your wife?”

Gin managed a careless shrug. “Ran’s easy, but I’m sure I can expand my horizons if necessary.”

“You needn't pretend,” Aizen answered. “I've told you before, if she means so much to you we can bring her along.”

“Nah, the family’s been an entertaining hobby, but it only really works here, kinda difficult to transplant, bit like a garden would be. No real point in bothering with that much work. I’m sure Hueco Mundo will have its own amusements anyway.”

Gin was very aware of Aizen’s eyes on him as he spoke, and he knew that sooner or later that lie was going to catch up with him. There was no way Aizen was going to leave it be. Someday he was going to have to prove that Rangiku and the kids meant nothing to him, and he knew he had to be ready for it.

“I’m sure you will find the Arrancar amusing,” Aizen said. “And there will be women, if that really does interest you.”

“I could take up drinking if I get bored; I could be a womanizing drunk--wouldn’t that drive Tosen mad?” Gin was grinning hugely now. It was an amusing thought; immorality really got on Tosen’s nerves, like he hadn’t figured out they were the bad guys. “And an adulterer!” he added gleefully. “That’ll really get under his skin.”

“That is a hobby I wouldn’t mind you giving up,” Aizen said, finally looking away. “Why you find it necessary to harass a useful ally is beyond me.”

“He hates me anyway,” Gin said. “I might as well enjoy it.”

“That could be your life’s motto. Beyond that extraordinarily foolish girl you married, I can think of no one who does not at least dislike you.”

“It’s a gift,” Gin said, finally hopping down from the table. “If I don’t get to go Rukia hunting I suppose it’s time I got back to the archive.”

“Yes, it is,” Aizen agreed, and as Gin reached the chamber door he added, “Don’t worry, Gin-kun. The fun is just about to start.”


	68. Chapter 68

What had started off as an extremely bad day was now edging dangerously close to nightmare territory for one Hisagi Shuhei. Although his captain had, at first, said that Nanao was unlikely to be punished too severely, it turned out too severely meant execution or banishment. He could not promise his lieutenant that his wife was out of danger of being locked away for the next century. He had suggested that if she were to cooperate and assist them in finding Rukia that would certainly turn the judgement in her favor.

For all of three minutes Shuhei had considered trying to talk Nanao into turning Rukia in, but, when he realized that to do so she would have to betray her captain, he knew that was not going to happen. So now the new plan was to lie; he would find Rukia himself, and he would tell everyone that Nanao had told him where she was. It was an awful plan, the sort of plan that might make Nanao despise him, but it was all he had, and he was determined their daughter was not going to grow up without her mother.

Finding Renji was his first bit of luck all day. The Fourth Division was packed with shinigami who’d been thrashed by the Ryoka, and, not having any other leads, Shuhei had gone to talk to them. Renji was with the young Captain Ichimaru, looking in on his own captain who was still unconscious.

Renji was leaning against a wall, waiting, while Toshiro and Unohana spoke, and Shuhei joined him, watching the two captains.

“I’m sure Shiba will do everything he can to keep her safe,” he said, softly.

Renji tensed. “What do you mean?” he answered just as quietly.

“It wasn’t the plan,” Shuhei said, lying because he had no idea what the plan had been. “For him to have to protect her alone, but I know Shiba; he’ll die before he fails his captain.”

Renji didn’t answer, but it was easy to see the fear growing in his eyes. Shuhei felt seriously guilty. He knew Renji loved Rukia, hell, everyone knew it except Rukia, and he was using that love to get Renji to give him any clue to where she could be--to turn her in--to be executed. It was an awful thing to do to anyone, but to a friend, it was unforgivable.

“I’ll be there with him, and I know you will too, but even the three of us, we’re nothing to a captain,” Shuhei said, and he reminded himself that he was the one on the side of Soul Society and justice, and the people trying to save Rukia were the traitors. He was only doing what he had to. “Is there anyone else?”

Unohana nodded to Toshiro and left the room. Toshiro would be joining them any moment. There was barely time left for Renji to answer, but he did, and it seemed to Shuhei that he said the oddest thing. “I heard Ichigo beat Captain Zaraki yesterday.”

“A strawberry?” Shuhei repeated, suddenly and completely confused.

“That’s one of the Ryoka’s names,” Toshiro explained as he joined them. “The one with orange hair. He nearly broke Rukia out of prison yesterday.”

“Oh,” was all Shuhei came up with to answer the captain.

“Lieutenant,” Toshiro said seriously. “I know things don’t look good for Captain Kyoraku right now, but I want you to know that I am absolutely certain that he has not acted in any way to betray Soul Society, and I am sure he will be vindicated in time. Please, do not lose faith in him.”

Shuhei looked down at the boy who seemed so absolutely certain. He’d known Toshiro for a great many years and would willingly admit the child was a great deal smarter than he was, but he was still a child. A child would want to believe in those he knew, and might be willing to overlook any number of things that didn’t fit into the world as he wanted to see it. He wanted to believe too, but justice wasn’t about what anyone wanted. It was only about the truth, and Kyoraku had helped a condemned prisoner to disappear. There was too much on the line for Shuhei to simply trust it would be fine in the end.

“Yes, Captain,” he said, nodding firmly.

Toshiro frowned, clearly not liking Shuhei’s answer, but then he turned to Renji. “You still coming with me?” he asked. “I’m going to go check on Hinamori. She’d probably be glad to see you’re doing ok.”

Renji nodded. “Yes, sir.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro was watching Hinamori talk to Renji when the orders came. Not one but three separate Hell’s Butterflies flew in the open window. He lifted his hand and the black butterfly landed gently on his palm, passing its message to him.

Any shinigami found to be aiding Ryoka are traitors to Soul Society and must be met with lethal force. 

Any shinigami found to be aiding the fugitive Kuchiki Rukia are traitors to Soul Society and must be met with lethal force. 

Upon apprehension, Kuchiki Rukia is to be brought to Sokyoku Hill and will there be executed immediately.

As he heard the new orders everything clicked. Nothing connected to Rukia’s sentence had made sense. It was far too extreme, and these orders, they were as well. Dealing so severely with any shinigami, regardless of their suspected crime was unprecedented. He was sure most others in the Gotei were explaining it as a reaction to discovering a plot by two of the most senior captains, but even that should not have happened. Kyoraku and Ukitake should have been questioned; then he and Unohana should have been questioned, and a massive manhunt for Aizen should have begun.

The only way any of it made any sense was if Aizen himself was calling the shots. And knowing what Aizen’s power was, that was completely possible. Aizen had taken over Central 46. If he was issuing orders now, then he had to be there now.

“I have to go,” he said abruptly.

“Where?” Renji demanded. “I’ll come.”

“No, you heard the orders. You know what you have to do,” Toshiro said. 

“Right,” Renji agreed. Then, abruptly, he bowed. 

“Thank you, Captain,” he said, before he turned and ran out the door.

“How can you let him go when you know they’re going to kill him!” Hinamori protested.

Toshiro frowned at her for a moment. She was just another victim of Aizen’s lies, and, just like the rest of them, she had absolutely no idea she’d been used. “I’m going to go see if I can straighten this mess out before anyone dies,” he said, finally.

“Then I’ll come with you,” she said, quickly climbing out of bed.

“No!” Toshiro almost shouted before he got control of his voice. “No. I need you to tell Unohana he’s at Central 46.”

“Who is?”

“She’ll know--you tell her, but then you come back here, and you stay here, understood?”

Hinamori nodded, and after a second Toshiro turned and vanished from the room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Shuhei was still trying to figure out what Renji had meant about Kenpachi losing to the Ryoka, if he’d meant anything at all, when he ran into Ikkaku alone, running back toward his division. It was odd seeing Ikkaku alone, not that he never went anywhere without Yumichika, but Shuhei had seen them both together earlier hunting for the Ryoka, and it didn’t seem like they’d split up without a reason.

“Hey,” he called out, and for a second it looked like Ikkaku was going to ignore him, but the Third Seat did finally turn back with a very impatient look on his face.

“Yeah--Lieutenant?” Ikkaku said, adding the title as an afterthought, as usual.

Shuhei had never gotten along with the guys from the Eleventh as well as a lot of his friends did. The biggest problem was the way they looked at fighting; they treated even life or death battles like games which was exactly the opposite way he’d been trained to think of fighting. Renji’d once told him all he really had to do was beat the shit out of Ikkaku once, and the entire division would stop treating him like a poser who’d been advanced above his station. Apparently all friendships in the Eleventh were based on someone nearly killing someone else.

And Ichigo had just beaten Kenpachi; that was what Renji was telling him. The Eleventh had, for all intents and purposes, switched sides. It was absolutely insane, and absolutely how they worked.

He stepped closer to Ikkaku and dropped his voice. “You heard about the arrests this morning, right?”

“Yeah?” Ikkaku said again, suddenly looking wary.

“I wasn’t there,” Shuhei said, “I wasn’t there last night or this morning either. I got there just in time to see them taking Kyoraku-san away in chains. I couldn’t do anything--he adopted me into his family, and I couldn’t do anything.”

Ikkaku looked uncomfortable as he answered. “Not like there's anything I can do, Lieutenant.”

“I think Shiba's going to need more help than Yumichika can manage,” Shuhei knew it was a gamble, but the two of them had a gift for finding people, usually enemies, but out of the entire Gotei he was willing to bet they were the most likely to have found Shiba.

Ikkaku didn't answer so Shuhei added the biggest lie, the one that made this, even for the Gotei and all of Soul Society, so wrong. “You gotta let me help my family.”

“They’re using Ichimaru’s old place, seems he was keeping it for a safe house for Rangiku, but as soon as we can locate Ichigo we’re getting them out of the city, maybe to the World of the Living--you sure you want in on this? You’ve got a kid.”

“I know.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Shuhei was only a step behind his captain when the Hell’s Butterfly arrived with the new orders.

Any shinigami found to be aiding Ryoka are traitors to Soul Society and must be met with lethal force. 

Any shinigami found to be aiding the fugitive Kuchiki Rukia are traitors to Soul Society and must be met with lethal force. 

Upon apprehension, Kuchiki Rukia is to be brought to Sokyoku Hill and will there be executed immediately.

He stumbled to a stop, and it was all he could do not to vomit. Most of his friends and his family had been labeled traitors. He was under orders, not to contain them or capture them but to kill them. Rukia’s execution was not going to end anything. It was just going to be the first--Kyoraku, Ukitake, and Kenpachi would likely fight to the death. How many would he take with him? This was madness!

“We are but servants of justice,” Tosen said. “It is not for us to decide who will live or die. We must obey the commands of those who pass judgment; that is the duty of every shinigami. Those who would defy justice must be stopped.”

Shuhei nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Do not forget you are on the side of justice.”

Shuhei followed after him quickly, almost jogging the rest of the way down the road to the tiny house that had once been the home of the former lieutenant Ichimaru Gin.

Tosen raised one hand as they approached and pointed his hand at the wooden building. “Hado 31: Shakkaho.”

A ball of brilliant red reishi slammed into the structure, shattering the barriers and dissolving the entire face of the house. Within the house’s front room Shiba Kaien stood with his right hand up, absorbing the remainder of the kido blast.

Rukia was on the ground behind him, covering her head with her arms, and Yumichika appeared on the broken roof, his zanpakuto already drawn and ready.

“Captain Tosen,” Kaien said, nodding slightly before he drew Nejibana. “It’s an honor to face you.”

“I will accept your surrender if you will lay your zanpakuto down. You need not die today,” Tosen said calmly, setting his hand on Suzumushi but not yet drawing the blade.

“I can’t complain if I die today,” Kaien answered. “In defense of a subordinate, to fulfill my captain’s will, what better way is there to die? Still, I don’t plan to die.”

“Your subordinate has been condemned, and your captain imprisoned. If you choose to stand with them you are standing against justice, and you deserve to share their fate.”

Kaien shrugged. “Never thought much of justice, I prefer mercy, but I am more than willing to share their fate.”

“That is your choice,” Tosen answered, drawing Suzumushi from its sheath.

“If you’ve got the captain then I suppose that leaves the lieutenant to me,” Yumichika said. “Hisagi-san, follow me. We should give Shiba-san and Captain Tosen some space.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

It took Kira about three minutes after receiving the orders to decide to break out of his cell. He was pretty sure the only reason he was still there was because he’d been forgotten anyway. He hadn’t done anything that should’ve earned more than overnight in a cell.

But in the time he’d been locked away it sounded like the entire Gotei had gone mad, and he wasn’t about to sit around a wait to find out who had killed who. He had to get out there and help.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

The orders arrived as Ikkaku reached the gate of the Eleventh. He could hear his captain laughing out loud. By the time he reached the steps, Kenpachi burst out the front door, Yachiru and Orihime each on a shoulder. The Ryoka, Ishida, following just behind them was the only one not smiling.

“Did ya find her?” Kenpachi demanded loudly.

“Yes, sir! She’s with Shiba at--”

“Don’t just stand there! Lead the way!”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Captain Komamura sighed as the butterfly dissolved. This was a very unhappy state of affairs. More people would be dying. He did not understand why Captains Kyoraku and Ukitake had broken Captain Kuchiki’s little sister out of prison, but he had known from the moment they were arrested that the issue would not be settled peacefully. Those two were well-respected throughout the Gotei and there was no doubt that they had many followers who would do whatever it took to fulfill their wishes.

The orders of Central 46 were necessary to end this thing before it became an all out civil war. He did not like it, but he would do his duty, even if it meant killing some of the brightest young shinigami in the Gotei.

“Let’s go,” he said to Iba. He could already sense the growing reiatsu of lieutenants and captains as they began gathering in one district of the city.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Nemu stood up abruptly, abandoning her monitor mid-calculation.

“What do you think you’re doing, you silly girl?” Kurotsuchi demanded. They were never going to get these tests done if she kept putting other things before her work. He had half a mind to make a new lieutenant, a male this time; it wouldn’t be as pleasing to look at, but females seemed to have an entire host of flaws he hadn’t considered during her construction.

“Shiro-chan won’t want anyone to be hurt,” she answered.

Kurotsuchi rolled his eyes. “Then he shouldn’t have broken the young Kuchiki out of the Senzaikyu. A violent conclusion was inevitable.”

“I have explained he was with me all night,” Nemu answered. “He could not have rescued Rukia. I do not understand why even you will not believe me. What reason would I have to try to deceive you?”

“Women lie for their men. It is a fact of nature,” Kurotsuchi answered. “Now sit down. You have 5,382 calculations to complete before we can begin our analysis of stage two.”

“I’m sorry, but I must go. Shiro-chan will need help getting out of prison,” Nemu informed him, and without any further explanation she started for the door.

“He already has that ridiculous friend of his, Captain Kyoraku. What could he possibly need you for?” Kurotsuchi protested, but she was already gone. He turned to Akon, who had been watching the entire interchange in silence. “Are all women this difficult?”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

General Yamamoto Genryusai looked out over Seireitei as the orders faded from his ears. “Chojiro,” he said, shortly. “Inform Captain Soifon that Shunsui and Jushiro will be escaping soon, and she will be able to follow them to the missing prisoner and the traitors. Her forces should focus on recapturing the prisoner and eliminating the Ryoka. The traitors will be engaged by ranking officers of the Gotei, and I will come to deal with my misbehaving students myself.”

The gray-haired lieutenant bowed. “Yes, general.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Unohana had returned to Captain Kuchiki’s room after Toshiro had left. It was difficult, even after Kyoraku and Ukitake had shared everything they had learned about Aizen, to believe that he was capable of inflicting so much damage. The most shocking thing of all was the knowledge that Byakuya had not been able to fight back. Senbonzakura had been in its sheath when they had brought the captain down from the Sokyoku Hill. He had been hit by multiple, high level kido, but he had not so much as drawn his own weapon.

She had gone to the hill herself to examine the remains of the fight. There were the remnants of many kido burns, but they were all focused on the location where Byakuya had fallen. The only evidence there was that Byakuya had even known he was under attack was the faint remnants of a kido shield. If she was right and it had been Bakudo 81, his opponent had either managed to shatter one of the highest level shields any shinigami could call or he had somehow used his illusions to avoid it entirely.

Aizen was brilliant, of that she was certain, and the power to create complete illusions was powerful in any hands, but a man of his intellect could use it in ways that would leave his enemies absolutely powerless. Against him and his awesome power the Gotei had only three weapons, shinigami so junior he had not bothered to catch them in his illusion, a very ill captain who, at his best, could break the illusions, but was likely to collapse from the effort and then the illusions could be remade, and the third weapon was Ichimaru Gin, who might be on their side, but was extremely unlikely to actually risk his own skin until there was absolutely no other option left.

Byakuya’s fate made it clear there was no way anyone could fight Aizen with his illusions head on. No matter how strong you were, you could not destroy an enemy you could not find.

“Captain Unohana, sir?” A soft voice interrupted her musings and she turned to find Hanataro peeking in the doorway, looking, as always, a bit like a mouse.

“Yes, Yamada-kun?” she asked.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you. I was just going to wait, but it seemed like you were going to be a while, and Lieutenant Hinamori asked me to tell you something, and she said it wasn’t important, but I’ve been thinking about it, and I think maybe it is, and I don’t think she would have left if it wasn’t.”

“Lieutenant Hinamori left?” Unohana repeated. A chill ran down her spine at the thought. Had Aizen’s lieutenant received some sort of instruction? What would the girl do if she thought it was for her beloved captain? She’d already tried to kill one of her best friends.

“Yes, Captain,” Hanataro said, looking even more worried by his captain’s reaction. “She said to tell you that Captain Ichimaru, Toshiro, that is, had figured out where someone was and it was Central 46, and he was going there or something like that, I’m sorry, I--”

His captain rushed past him before he finished talking, and he sighed. That did seem pretty typical.


	69. Chapter 69

Toshiro froze when he entered the eight-sided chamber. The smell of death was thick in the air. On the levels above him, forty-six elders of Seireitei slumped over tables and on the floors, all of them not just dead but long dead. The blood spray and gashes on the bodies made it clear they had been cut down with a blade and the way they had fallen where they sat; they had died before they had ever seen the attack coming.

“Well, aren’t you early?” Toshiro heard a far, far too familiar voice say, and he turned to see his father step into view beside one of the judges’ benches. “I say early, but I really think Tosen is late. If you ask me he ought to have had Rukia back at the Soukyoku Hill, ready for her execution, by now, but that’s just me. I think blood in the streets is a bit over the top, but I think Aizen will be satisfied if even one person manages to kill a dear friend before his big reveal of the truth.”

“You did this?” Toshiro said, somewhere between a question and an accusation.

“Well, not all of it,” Gin said, sounding offended by the suggestion. “Slaughtering forty-six people all on your own would take a while, and it’s not even fun when all they do is sit there.”

Toshiro looked over the bodies once more, forty-six innocent people who had not even been able to fight back; his father had killed them, and he didn’t even care. He had no conscience at all, no pang of guilt or remorse. He felt nothing, not even hate; he’d murdered all these people for a purpose that wasn’t even his own. He was worse than Aizen; at least Aizen had a reason.

“Do you feel anything at all?” Toshiro demanded. He realized, now, that his mother hadn't been the only one who had fallen for Gin’s act because this was a shock. He’d thought he’d understood before, that his father really didn’t care about anything, but even so, he’d never imagined him capable of this. This took a whole other level of not caring. To do something like this and not feel anything, Gin had to be completely empty.

“I spend quite a lot of my time bored,” Gin answered. “But you should understand that, Shiro. It really is painful having to spend so much time with all those stupid people, don't you think? At least you're a bright one; didn't take too much after your mother. It was almost fun seeing how far I could push you. No matter how I--”

“Mom isn't stupid and she's never been boring, ever,” Toshiro interrupted. The one thing Toshiro had always had to give his father, no matter how angry he had been with him, was that he had some feeling for Rangiku, but this monster felt nothing for anyone. None of them had ever been anything more than toys to him. “She--”

“Alright, I'll grant you that one,” Gin said, grinning that smile Toshiro hated so much. “Rangiku is always good for a bit of fun--if you can get all the damn kids to sleep.”

“She loves you!”

“You're the one who claims she isn't stupid,” Gin answered. His smile became even more forced, although Toshiro didn't notice. “This ought to cure her though; probably a bit much even for the ever-loving Rangiku to forgive, don't you think? Or maybe she’ll take another apology; she does love me so much.”

“No, she’s not going to listen to you ever again.” Toshiro pulled Hyorinmaru from its sheath. “Because this time I will kill you.”

Gin smiled hugely. “I will enjoy watching you try.”

“What happened here?”

Toshiro turned at the sound of her voice. Hinamori Momo stood in the doorway, looking over the bloodbath, an expression of horror growing on her face. And then, there behind her, he saw a tall, gentle-looking man appear, a man who should have been dead. 

“Aizen!” he hissed. If Hinamori hadn’t been between them he would have lunged forward with Hyorinmaru immediately.

She turned and an expression of wonder and joy filled her face. “Captain Aizen!”

Aizen smiled and set his hand on the girl’s head. “Hinamori-kun, I’m back,” his expression was so kind and his tone so gentle that even Toshiro did not expect the blade he thrust through the girl’s chest.

Toshiro watched Hinamori slump to her knees and Aizen withdraw Kyoka Suigetsu and sheath the zanpakuto with the same calm, gentle expression on his face. His expression did not change at all as he raised his head to look back at Toshiro.

“Shiro-kun,” he said with the same kind tone with which he had always addressed Toshiro. “Don’t be so upset. I will be leaving Soul Society soon, and you know she could not survive without me.”

Toshiro’s rage was not an explosion of heat and fire; it was cold and hard, and far more controlled than any child had any right to be. “Bankai,” he said, his voice hard and clear. “Daiguren Hyorinmaru.”

Ice flowed out from Hyorinmaru to encase his arms and legs and great wings of ice grew from his back, raising him into the air.

Aizen calmly stepped past Hinamori’s fallen form and smiled pleasantly up at Toshiro. “You are right to be proud, Gin-kun. His bankai is exquisite,” he said, first addressing Gin, but then he spoke to Toshiro. “Come, Shiro-kun, you don’t want to fight me. We have been friends, haven’t we, for many years?

“You are a brilliant, deeply gifted, young man. From the very day of your birth your potential has been obvious. You can be so much more than a mere shinigami. You’re still a child and already you’ve reached the limits of a shinigami’s power. Come with me, and we will find ways to expand our powers beyond these artificial limits. We can become so much more; Soul Society is a prison to those like us.”

“And that’s a reason to kill?” Toshiro demanded. “You think being stronger than them gives you the right to cut people down like they’re nothing? You’re never going to be great--you’re nothing but a killer.”

He brought Hyorinmaru down with a shout, sending out an enormous wave of ice, encasing Aizen and nearly a quarter of the room in ice. He knew it wouldn’t be enough to stop Aizen, but as long as he could keep him from drawing Kyoka Suigetsu he had a chance.

Slowly he dropped to the ground, keeping his eyes focused on the frozen form.

There was only an instant between the moment Aizen stood frozen in ice and the moment Gin threw himself over the boy, knocking him back as he grabbed hold of him. Toshiro had no time to react to his father’s sudden move before Gin’s tight grip suddenly gave way, and he became a dead weight, falling forward into Toshiro.

The boy released Hyorinmaru, and caught hold of his father, sinking, with him, to the ground.

Aizen smiled, watching the blood spill down, soaking through the white of Gin’s haori, and staining the boy’s hands as he clutched at his father’s sides. Only slowly was Toshiro beginning to comprehend what had happened. He did not see the slash across his father’s back until he got him to the floor, and the blood by then was like a flood, spilling all too willingly from a wound that reached from his shoulder to his hip. The boy clutched at the loose fabric of his father’s haori, pressing it against the gouge, as though it might somehow staunch the bleeding. 

Aizen looked down at him, unnoticed. Toshiro, so strong and defiant only a moment ago, had transformed into a small and frightened child. For a moment he considered cutting him down, leaving Gin alive but taking the son he had sacrificed everything to save was a thought that amused him. The pain that Gin would suffer, but, no, the children were such wonderful chains, dragging Gin down, making it impossible for him to fight freely, and the fear he would face, knowing Aizen could take them at any moment, and there was nothing Gin could do to protect them would be the perfect torture for the traitor. And one never knew, Toshiro might still be useful.

The pale child was more red than white now, stained with his father’s blood. He was sobbing and still fighting futilely to stop the blood flow. “No, Dad, please, Dad, Dad,” he choked between sobs. He was nothing but a little boy. 

Aizen left him without a thought. He had better things to do. He could feel Unohana and Kotetsu racing for the door. How lucky! They were in time to save poor little Hinamori-kun and Gin-kun. He smiled as he turned to face them.


	70. Chapter 70

Kaien was somehow holding his own against Tosen. He’d been a lieutenant longer than Tosen had been a captain, and the rumors that he was ready to test for captain were not without basis, but Gin wasn’t wrong about his bankai either. Without a captain to practice against he had not managed to perfect it, and the moment Tosen was able to call his own, Kaien knew the fight would be over.

So he pressed forward, trying to keep the captain constantly on the defensive. Nejibana sent wave after wave of water crashing toward Tosen, forcing him to stay on the move, to avoid being washed away. It almost made it look like Kaien had the advantage, but he knew Tosen was wearing him down, allowing him to waste strength on a constant attack that never quite connected. His only real hope was that help would be coming soon.

——

Renji watched in amazement as Nejibana sent a wave of water at least twenty yards, tearing tiles from the roof of a building, barely missing Captain Tosen as he jumped back, onto a higher perch.

Kaien followed after the captain, and Renji finally caught sight of the girl he had been guarding. Rukia, wearing only a thin white kimono, was crouching on the floor of a ruined house.

In that instant nothing else mattered. He could hear distant buildings crashing as Captain Zaraki battled Captain Komamura, and the much nearer battle between Kaien and Tosen; only moments ago, the sight of members of the Gotei battling each other had been horrifying, but now all that mattered was Rukia. She was unarmed and completely helpless. Nearly all her strength had been drained by her long imprisonment.

He dodged around Tosen and Kaien, not even thinking to offer the other lieutenant some help. He had to get Rukia to safety; that was all that mattered.

But she backed away from him when he reached her. “Renji, are you going to take me back?” she asked warily.

“What?” he demanded, completely shocked by her accusation. “No, we’re going to save you! Haven’t you noticed? Half the Gotei’s fighting for you!”

She turned and looked over at Kaien, risking his life to protect her from Captain Tosen. It didn’t make any sense. Captain Ukitake breaking her out of the Senzaikyu hadn’t made any sense, neither had Captain Kyoraku and Lieutenant Rangiku helping her to hide. Almost everyone she respected most was breaking the law and ignoring orders just to keep her alive.

“Renji, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know, but whatever happens, I'm going to keep you safe, ok?”

“Don’t be stupid!” Rukia protested. “You’ll just get yourself killed!” Her eyes went to Kaien fighting a captain. “Everyone’s going to get killed because of me.”

“It’s not just about you,” Renji protested. Of course, her survival was all that really mattered to him, but he’d tell her that later. “Something else is going on. Shiro--Captain Ichimaru is trying to work it out. It’s why Captain Aizen was killed and you’re supposed to be executed. Everyone thinks keeping you alive is the only way to stop it, so we gotta fight for you, ok? Whatever it takes, you gotta stay alive.”

Rukia nodded. Then her eyes widened, taking in something over his shoulder.

Renji drew Zabimaru just in time to block Lieutenant Kira’s bent blade, as he attacked without warning. “What do you think you’re doing?” Renji demanded. “You could’ve killed me!”

Kira met Renji’s answering strike with a simple block, telling him, “I’m following orders.”

“The orders are wrong!” Renji shouted at him, blocking another feint from Wabisuke and knocking Kira back. “The hell kind of friend tries to kill someone from behind anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter who you are to me or how you die. You’re a traitor to Soul Society,” Kira answered.

“Roar, Zabimaru!” Renji ordered, sending his zanpakuto hurtling across the distance between them.

Kira blocked Zabimaru when it extended toward him, hitting the blade three times in quick succession, and suddenly the blade crashed to the ground.

“What did you do?” Renji demanded.

“Wabisuke doubles the weight of anything it touches. You can’t even lift your zanpakuto anymore.”

“Oh, yeah?” Renji said, and he smiled. “How about this? Bankai!”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Aizen drew back as Unohana and her lieutenant entered the room. Things had not played out quite as he had planned. He had not expected Gin to waste his life so pointlessly. All that time and energy spent getting into Aizen’s good graces and he’d wasted it, why? To save his son from one attack that might or might not have killed him.

Aizen had always found Gin to be a mystery, but this, it fit into none of the theories he had for understanding Gin. Sacrificing himself to save his son was not a choice Aizen had ever considered Gin might make. It annoyed him more than anything to think that it might not have been a conscious decision on Gin’s part. The man’s self-control had always been what impressed Aizen most. He never let any emotion affect him. If Gin had simply protected Toshiro because of a momentary panic, Aizen really would be disappointed.

He was still trying to understand why Gin had acted when Unohana addressed him.

“So it is you, Captain Aizen,” she said. “I had hoped there was some other answer to this puzzle, but the evidence has been overwhelming for a while.”

Aizen pulled his eyes away from Gin, but he was still unhappy with this turn of events. He’d been so sure he knew exactly how to keep Gin on his leash. A miscalculation of this degree was unacceptable. “Evidence? You had no evidence, only suspicions. If you had the loyal officers of the Gotei would not now be battling each other.”

“Why have you done this? What is it you want? Why does Rukia need to die, and Momo?” Unohana added, her eyes going to the fallen girl. Then her gaze shifted to Toshiro and Gin. “Then he was working against you? All this time? How sad.”

Aizen’s eyes narrowed. “You knew?” Yet another occurrence he had not expected. He had seen through Gin’s mask when the man was just a child, and not quite the expert at hiding his feeling that he later became, and all he had seen was Gin’s desire to kill him, nothing more. How had Unohana known Gin was a traitor?

“Suspected, although it was not until this week that I had any guess who he was playing the villain for,” she answered. “Ichimaru Gin has always worked to be hated. Either he truly saw other people as nothing but playthings, existing only for his entertainment, which is how he behaved, or he was playing a part. Rangiku's unceasing faith in him has always made me wonder. She's known him much longer than anyone else. It's possible she knows him better than we do.”

That did not sit well with Aizen, that Gin’s blond bimbo might know him better than Aizen himself; the idea was completely unacceptable. For a moment he wanted to strike Unohana down simply for suggesting it, but, no, that was not the plan. He was to leave effortlessly, taking the Hogyoku with him, filling the entire Gotei with a feeling of helplessness and dread.

“Perhaps,” Aizen answered finally. “I doubt it matters much either way as it appears you’re going to allow him to bleed out on the floor.”

“No,” Unohana said, stepping back to the fallen captain. “You’ve taken enough lives. Ichimaru Gin is not going to be another of your victims.”

“Then I leave you to your work,” he said, and, without even turning to watch her as he did, he walked calmly from the room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Aizen stood alone on the Sokyoku Hill, looking down over all of Seireitei. The Court of Pure Souls indeed, it had not taken much to bring about absolute chaos. The shinigami and their Gotei were so much weaker than they imagined. They were not a united force, but a discordant assembly, run more by the personal charisma of various captains than any unifying structure. It had taken so little effort to fracture the web of loyalties that held the Gotei together. The lieutenants, especially, were in chaos. Young and powerful was a dangerous combination, and the damage they were doing to the city and the people who depended on them, citizens and unranked shinigami alike, would take years to undo, but every last one of them was far too wrapped up in their own personal conflicts to notice.

It was, all in all, a beautiful sight, but, still, he was annoyed. Tosen was late. He should have brought Rukia to the hill by now, but instead he was playing with Ukitake’s protege. Only while Aizen was watching did Tosen finally used his bankai to trap Shiba in darkness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Kaien was lost the moment the darkness fell and he knew it. He could not fight someone he could not see or hear or sense in any way. All he could do was stand there and patiently wait for the end.

The fact that he felt each blow and was able to counter as it landed was only slowing the inevitable. He was bleeding from half a dozen different strikes, and, as the blood loss slowed his reflexes, each new wound was deeper, closer to the final fatal blow.

Finally, he could no longer maintain shikai, and Nejibana returned to its katana form. This was his end, separated from the entire world, even from his own senses. All that remained was pain. He almost laughed; so much for not dying alone.

His knees gave out, and he sank to the ground.  
The cry, “Getsuga Tensho!” Might have filled him with hope, but he heard nothing, and he lost consciousness before the wave of power shattered Tosen’s cage of darkness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro noticed nothing until Unohana’s hand was on his shoulder, pulling him away from his father’s blood-drenched body. He looked up at the captain as she knelt beside him and tried to speak, but he had no words left.

“Captain Ichimaru,” she said, meeting his eyes with her steady gaze. “Soul Society needs you now. Leave your father to me and go. Aizen must be stopped.”

His eyes dropped to Gin. He really couldn’t believe his father was still alive; there was so much blood.

“I will save him, Toshiro,” Unohana said. “But you must save Rukia. If you don’t, all of Soul Society may be destroyed.”

Her words finally reached him through the shock. Toshiro staggered to his feet. He looked from his father to Hinamori, where Lieutenant Kotetsu was already at work. “I will stop him,” Toshiro said firmly.

He turned and vanished from the room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

This is Lieutenant Kotetsu, speaking to all shinigami at the command of Captain Unohana. Aizen Sosuke is alive. We discovered him within the Assembly Hall of Central 46, surrounded by the bodies of every member of the assembly. They had been massacred days ago, and Aizen has been issuing false orders in their place.

He has exited the Hall, and Captain Unohana believes he is headed for Kuchiki Rukia. Her death is somehow instrumental to his plans. All Gotei forces must turn all efforts to stopping Aizen Sosuke.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Aizen frowned. Time was up, and Tosen did not have his hands on Rukia. He had been stopped by Ichigo of all people. Yoruichi had done her job well. The boy’s bankai was impressive. He was moving at an incredible speed, easily avoiding Tosen’s attacks and driving the captain further and further away from Rukia with attacks of his own.

Currently only Abarai Renji stood guard over the girl herself, but he could see multiple captains racing to converge on her location. Kyoraku and Ukitake were nearly there with Kurotsuchi’s lieutenant in tow. Soifon had been momentarily distracted by Yoruichi, but Kotetsu’s announcement had brought her to her senses and both women could reach Rukia in seconds.

Even Gin’s boy was going to protect her. He was racing across Seireitei almost parallel to the General, himself, who had not even left his division until Kotetsu’s announcement.

Aizen smiled. That would do for a distraction.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Kyoraku stopped and Ukitake beside him. Nemu looked from one captain to the other, picking up their sudden increase in tension.

“What’s his next move?” Kyoraku asked, turning slowly, trying to take in as much of the city as possible.

Ukitake was still looking toward the place where Tosen’s black dome had been. “He needs Rukia,” he answered.

“Yes, but he’s patient,” Kyoraku answered, “And he likes his games. He’d rather pull a fast one than take us on face to face, make it look like he’s always a step ahead, even if we’re catching up.”

He was looking back toward the center of the city when suddenly a wall of flames cut across a thousand yards of one district, instantly charring dozens of buildings. A second later a wall of ice met the flames and both vanished in a billowing steam.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro barely managed to jump back as a wall of fire cut across his path. The heat alone was nearly enough to crush him. The force of it, radiating out from the flames, was unbearable. He couldn’t breathe; it was too hot. He felt it scalding his lungs.

He drew Hyorinmaru in desperation, sending a wall of ice into the flames to quench the unbearable heat.

XXX

A wall of ice tore across the road, shattering buildings in its wake. It was an awesome display of the power of Hyorinmaru, the strongest ice zanpakuto in Soul Society, but it did not impress General Yamamoto.

He turned to the source of the destruction; a small boy, standing less than a hundred yards away. Hyorinmaru was in his hands, and his eyes shone cold and hard, with absolute and unbreakable determination.

“I have no desire to kill a child,” Yamamoto said, turning slowly to face Toshiro. “Did your father send you here to stop me? I do not doubt he serves Aizen most gladly, but you, Toshiro, you do not have to follow them. Today they both will pay for their treachery, but you still have hope. You are young. You can still choose a righteous path.”

XXX

Toshiro watched the General approach him with growing fear. The force of the old man’s reiatsu was almost as unbearable as the heat of his fire, and his words were devastating. 

“Today Seireitei will be cleansed. All traitors will die, and, for the purity and preservation of the Gotei, all who share their blood must be eradicated.”

Kinta and Yukiko, that was who the General meant, not just Toshiro, but his little brother and sister as well. Yamamoto saw them as unclean, corrupted by Gin’s blood. Toshiro had felt that way himself, sometimes, like there had to be something wrong with all of them because of their father, but it wasn’t true, and even if it was, he couldn’t allow them to be harmed. It was his responsibility; he had to protect his siblings, no matter what. He had to stop Yamamoto.

XXX

Toshiro threw his arm up, holding Hyorinmaru straight up, pointing to the heavens. “Bankai: Tenso Jurin!”

The sky churned in immediate response to his call. Dark clouds blocked out the sun and a chill spread across all of Seireitei.

Yamamoto had no choice but to react. Toshiro could freeze half of Seireitei to death with that one power.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The moment Rangiku and Nanao heard Lieutenant Kotetsu’s alert they were on their feet and running for the door. If Kinta hadn’t asked if he could come too they might have left all three children alone.

“I have to help the Captain!” Nanao argued.

“I have to--Gin!” Rangiku could not even say what she feared, but she had to go. She had to stop Gin from helping Aizen.

“You just had a baby, Rangiku! You can’t run out into the middle of a fight!” Nanao protested.

“And you’re under house arrest--I’ll be careful, I swear, but I’ve got to go!”

“You heard Kotetsu; it doesn’t count any more! People could be in serious trouble, and I can--”

Nanao was interrupted by a distant rumble, possibly buildings collapsing or some sort of explosion.

Rangiku’s eyes went huge. “Shiro-chan’s out there,” she said softly.

Nanao looked from Rangiku to Kinta and Aiko playing with blocks on the floor, and then to her hand on the doorknob. “Paper, scissors, rock?”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fire then ice and now all of winter? Kyoraku would have bet money neither Toshiro or Yamamoto would use their powers at full strength within the city. Both had abilities that could threaten hundreds if not thousands of lives, and neither was the sort to forget that.

“It’s not right,” he said softly. Then he started running. “It’s an illusion! I’ll stop them--you stop Aizen!”

Ukitake didn’t try to question his friend. He was out of earshot within seconds anyway.

XXX

Kyoraku could move quickly when he decided to, but he knew he wasn’t going to make it in time. As he watched, the massive ice dragon swirling around Toshiro rose well over a hundred feet in the air and Yama-ji raised Ryujin Jakka in its katana form.

“Bakudo 81: Danku!” Kyoraku shouted, sending a barrier between the two warring captains.

The barrier wasn’t as strong as it could have been, sent from a distance, but it took some part of Ryujin Jakka’s unmatchable power before shattering. Then the ice dragon was struck, evaporating almost instantly.

In that instant, just before the flames struck Toshiro, the entire world seemed to shift. The line of buildings burnt by Yamamoto’s first attack were no longer burnt, but only broken by Toshiro’s icy response. The sky was not black with storm clouds and the icy chill vanished from the air.

Toshiro was not holding Hyorinmaru up in defiance as he had seemed to be only an instant earlier. He had struck the zanpakuto in the ground beside him, at the center of an enormous wall of ice, and he was not even watching the roaring flames as they crashed down on him.

Kyoraku reached the boy before Yamamoto. It took the general a moment to absorb the sudden change in scenery and to comprehend that Toshiro’s massive attack had been nothing but an illusion to force him to respond.

Kyoraku let out his breath in a sigh of relief as he dropped to his knees beside Toshiro. The boy was scorched but not nearly as badly as he should have been. Hyorinmaru, still standing where he had thrust it into the ground beside him, was blackened and looked like it might crumble to dust if anyone touched it. The zanpakuto had taken nearly all the force of the attack and saved its master’s life.

And now that he was next to Toshiro, Kyoraku could see why Toshiro had not tried to dodge or taken any other action to save himself. The marks of Bakudo 77 were nearly completed on his arms. He had been trying to contact someone, and he had believed that was more important than his own life.

“This is Aizen’s doing,” Kyoraku explained, even as he wondered what Toshiro had seen that had him attempting a complicated Kido in the middle of a fight. “He used illusion to set the two of you against each other. Ukitake broke the illusion but not soon enough.”

Yamamoto frowned at the fallen boy. Only moments ago he had appeared dangerous and powerful and absolutely determined to fight to the death, but now he looked like an innocent child, wounded as no child should ever be with burn marks across his hands and face and his hair singed. He looked quite pitiful and Yamamoto knew as well as Kyoraku what the marks on his arms were. He had not been fighting; he had been trying to reach someone.

“When did I get so old I replaced thought with obedience to orders? You and Jushiro both tried to warn me about Aizen. If I had listened, I would never have been driven to turn my sword on a child,” Yamamoto said, as he looked down at Toshiro. “See that he’s taken to the Fourth. I will deal with Aizen.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Tosen dropped to his knees as the black Getsuga passed through him and he coughed up a spray of bright red blood. Ichigo stumbled backwards yanking at the hollow mask on his face.

“Get off!” he shouted as it shattered into fragments.

Nearly a dozen shinigami were watching him in disbelief. The Ryoka had transformed into something nearly hollow and defeated one of their captains. It was impossible and not one of them had any idea how to react. Even Rukia just stared.

Ichigo turned slowly to look at her; Renji was between them standing before her like some sort of guard, but he didn’t care. He was just relieved to see that she still looked alright. 

“What was that announcement before?” Ichigo asked. “Do we still need to run?”

At that moment everyone suddenly felt the force of an overwhelming reiatsu, greater even than Ichigo had felt when he came face to face with Zaraki Kenpachi. Every gaze shifted to a single figure walking down the road. He was a tall man, but he had a gentle appearance, and he wore a captain's haori.

“Who the hell are you?” Ichigo demanded, raising Zangetsu once more.

The man smiled slightly. “I see you are already feeling the effects of the hollowfication process, Kurosaki Ichigo,” he answered.

“What?” Ichigo demanded.

“A side effect of Urahara’s ‘training’; you have gained not only shinigami power but a measure of hollow power as well,” the captain said. “You should be careful working with Urahara Kisuke. He doesn’t always share all necessary information.”

“That’s Captain Aizen,” Renji shouted at Ichigo. “He’s the one who wants Rukia dead.”

AIzen’s smile grew. “I don’t care about Rukia at all,” he said.

“That’s right,” Yoruichi agreed loudly, from her perch on a nearby rooftop. “You got bigger plans than just murdering an innocent girl.”

“Plans very much like your lover might have had,” Aizen answered. “If he’d had the courage to face his creation.”

Beside Yoruichi, Soifon made a very sour face, presumably at the mention of Yoruichi’s lover.

Yoruichi let out a laugh and slapped her knee. “That’s Kisuke for you! He has all sorts of ideas, but he never does have the guts to follow through.”

“Yoruichi-san, what’s he talking about?” Ichigo demanded.

“One o’ Kisuke’s toys, turned out to be more trouble than it was worth, but it couldn’t be destroyed. The dumbass tried to hide it. He locked it away in Rukia’s soul, seemed to think no one would find it there, but Mr. Ambitious here’s pretty f-ing determined--oh, and Kisuke said to tell you he was sorry if you found out everything’s his fault, so sorry, Ichigo.” Yoruichi was somehow smiling at the end of her speech.

“What about the hollow-whatever thing?” Ichigo asked, seeing as Aizen had also suggested that was Urahara’s fault.

“He’s sorry about that too, but, you know, you really couldn’t expect much, trying to force your shinigami powers to unlock. He did tell you it was dangerous.”

Ichigo just blinked. He really had no response to that.

“It looks like we made it on time,” Captain Ukitake said as he appeared on a rooftop with Nemu by his side.

“Hey, Shiro-chan, long time no see!” Yoruichi said with a casual wave.

“It is good to see you again, Yoruichi-sama,” Ukitake answered with a polite nod. Then he smiled. “Have you met Nemu?” he asked, pulling the lieutenant of the Twelfth forward. “My wife.”

“Nice to meet you,” Yoruichi called back. “And congratulations! You caught a good one!”

“Caught?” Nemu asked, looking back at Ukitake in confusion.  
“Are you finished?” Aizen asked abruptly.

“Sure,” Yoruichi agreed. “You wanting to tell us about how clever you are or what you’re planning to do next?”

His eyes narrowed. “Shihouin Yoruichi, you are the single-most grating female I have had the displeasure of meeting. Urahara Kisuke is a man of many mysteries but the one I find most difficult to comprehend is why he endures your continued companionship.”

“And Ichimaru Gin’s your best buddy--where is the pasty bastard, anyway? You finally figure out he was laughing at you, not with you?”

Aizen smiled indulgently. “I’m afraid it will be awhile before Gin-kun is going to be much use to anyone--but, tell me, Yoruichi, how are the skills of the ‘Flash Goddess’ these days?”

He vanished abruptly with a burst of shunpo, and Yoruichi followed after him, but she was immediately sent flying with a single strike, and Aizen came to a stop beside Rukia, catching hold of her immediately.

It had all happened too quickly for anyone else to react. Even Ichigo in bankai hadn’t been able to catch up, and he rushed after Aizen an instant later. He brought down Zangetsu, in a single fierce strike, and Aizen stopped the blade with one finger.

Yoruichi was swearing and rubbing her head where it had collided with a wall, while everyone else was staring at Aizen and Ichigo. Ichigo’s own hand was bleeding from the force of the blow, but Aizen was unharmed.

“You imagined you were strong, now, didn’t you?” Aizen said. “You have only reached the beginning of the path to true power.”

“Perhaps, you would prefer an opponent a little further down that path, eh, Sosuke?”

Everyone turned to see General Yamamoto had appeared on the edge of the destruction. He looked old and feeble, leaning on his cane, but his reiatsu, even cloaked, was enormous.

Aizen watched the old man move slowly closer.

“We will ask the children to leave so we can fight without anything to hold us back. You may show me the full extent of your power,” Yamamoto told him.

Aizen took a step back, dragging Rukia with him. “Maybe another time, General,” he said as he and Rukia were enveloped in a strange light from the heavens.


	71. Chapter 71

Rangiku stared in horror at what had become of her old street. Her old home and many others had been destroyed. She walked slowly through the wreckage, her eyes moving from one familiar face to another. She felt a small amount of relief with each friend she found unharmed, but there was a knot in her chest that was growing tighter and tighter with each step. Neither Toshiro nor Gin were ever hard to locate, even in a crowd.

She was having a hard time making sense of what had happened. She saw emergency workers around Kaien, and heard the famous orange-haired Ryoka making some sort of apology to Miyako about not getting there soon enough, but Captain Ukitake was with them so she didn’t feel like she needed to go and give any sort of moral support. Then she passed by Renji, who was sitting on the ground with his head in his hands; Kira was standing beside him, looking as worried and awkward as ever, but no Gin and no Shiro-chan.

In the center of the chaos she saw General Yamamoto leaning on his staff and conversing with a strange woman, who seemed oddly comfortable talking to the old man. At any other time Rangiku might have wondered at that, at who the woman was and how she had come to be friends with the General, but at this moment Rangiku cared about exactly one thing: where her family was and what had happened to them.

She turned and looked back over the chaos, but she could not make sense of anything that was happening.

“Please come with me, Rangiku-san,” Nemu said, abruptly, coming up beside her and taking hold of her arm.

“What are you talking about? Do you know where Gin is, Nemu-chan?” she demanded, looking around once more. Almost every captain was here, but where was her husband? It had looked horribly likely he was working with Aizen, but nobody seemed to have seen him, and Toshiro-- “Where’s my son?”

She grabbed ahold of the Twelfth Division lieutenant. “Nemu!” she shouted. “Where is my son?”

“Please, Rangiku-san,” Nemu said, looking uncertain. “I need to take you back to Lieutenant Ise’s home. Shiro-chan says it will be best if you wait there.”

Rangiku let go abruptly and took a step back. Her skin had gone completely gray and her expression was of someone who had realized they’d taken a fatal blow. She shook her head slowly, and her mouth moved but no words escaped.

Captain Kyoraku caught hold of her as she stumbled backwards. “Careful now, Rangiku-chan!” Then he saw her expression and turned to Nemu. “What happened?”

“I think she’s worried about her family,” Nemu said. “But I have nothing to say to reassure her. I do not know what has happened to Captain Ichimaru Gin, and I have no confidence as to Captain Ichimaru Toshiro’s current condition.”

Kyoraku frowned for a moment before he answered. “Toshiro’s going to be just fine. He’d be here himself if he didn’t have such poor heat tolerance. They’re making him stay in bed till he’s back down to his normal temperature, but nothing at all to worry about.”

Tears started pouring from Rangiku’s eyes. “You’re sure? He’s fine?”

Kyoraku smiled broadly. “I promise. He’s an impressive young man, Rangiku-chan. There’s not many of us could have come out of that as well as he did.”

“Oh,” Rangiku smiled back, and for a moment she started to relax. Then she seemed to realize he had been trying to distract her. “You didn’t--Captain, please, if you--please, just tell me! Is Gin dead?”

“Gin’s still alive,” Kyoraku said, his expression going deadly serious. “Aizen left him and Lieutenant Hinamori in extremely critical condition, but Captain Unohana believes she reached them both in time. They have been transported to the Fourth, and Captain Unohana is overseeing their treatment herself. There is every reason to be hopeful for their eventual recovery.”

Rangiku nodded slowly. “Thank--thank you, sir,” she said. Then she added, “Do you think--do you think I could go see him now, sir?”

“I think it would be best if you let Nemu take you back to Nanao-chan’s. You’ve got two little ones waiting for you, and we’ll send Toshiro to you just as soon as he’s able, alright?”

Rangiku nodded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Rangiku spent the afternoon drinking tea and staring out the window at the beautiful buildings of the Eighth Division. Sake would have been better but Nanao claimed she was out. She let Nanao deal with Kinta and Yukiko. She did nurse the baby when Nanao shoved the crying infant into her arms, but she couldn’t really focus on what was going on around her. She was too busy trying to make sense of a puzzle she didn’t seem to have all the pieces to.

Shuhei staggered in at dinner time looking like he had been hit by a ton of bricks, and when Nanao demanded to know where he’d been he just shook his head and slumped, absolutely exhausted, onto the couch.

“That’s not an answer,” Nanao snapped, but she had to deal with the children’s dinner and ran off to the kitchen without demanding a better one.

Rangiku looked her friend over slowly. There was no sign of injury she could see, no blood on his shihakusho or anything like that, but he still looked like he must have been in an awful fight. “What happened to you?” she asked finally.

“Ayasegawa Yumichika has no business calling himself a fifth seat,” Shuhei answered without opening his eyes.

“Why would you have fought Ayasegawa?” Nanao demanded, as she returned to the room.

“Ichigo beat Zaraki so they all turned traitor,” Shuhei answered, forcing himself to sit up. “I was following orders, Nanao.”

“But you knew the captain had helped Rukia; you knew the orders had to be wrong,” Nanao told him.

“Or your captain would do anything for Ukitake and Ukitake’d do anything for his people--I couldn’t just go along with that. I have my own--had my own--captain--damn, my head hurts!” he leaned forward, pressing his eyes against his palms. “Someday I’m going to pay that goddamn pretty boy back.”

“It’s your own fault! You shouldn’t have been fighting him in the first place. You should have trusted us,” Nanao told him. 

“Trusted what?” he demanded, looking up suddenly. “Neither of you trusted me enough to tell me what was going on.”

“That’s not true,” Nanao answered, managing to look impressively indignant despite the fact that it really did appear to be the case. “We were protecting you, because we couldn’t know for sure. We didn’t tell Rangiku anything either, but she trusted us.”

“What didn’t you tell me?” Rangiku demanded, realizing for the first time that Nanao might know more about the Aizen situation than she did.

Nanao ignored Rangiku and pushed her glasses back carefully. “The point is,” she said, clearing her throat. “That Rangiku helped, knowing that she was disobeying orders but trusting that it was the right thing to do--but you--you did not trust me--your wife! Or Captain Kyoraku--your adopted father! It’s a good thing Ayasegawa is so strong! You could have killed him! Do you realize you could have killed your own friend because of Aizen’s false orders?”

“Yes, Nanao, I am very, very aware of that fact.” Shuhei got up abruptly and crossed the room to pull a bottle of sake out of a corner cabinet. “I’m going upstairs,” he said dully and vanished through the door.

Rangiku wanted to protest the fact that apparently sake did still exist in this house, but the look on Nanao’s face stopped her. The woman was staring after her husband in total shock, like she couldn’t believe he’d simply walked out in the middle of her telling him off. It was almost humorous. Rangiku couldn’t begin to count the number of times Gin had decided he’d had enough and left before she was done talking.

“He’s upset, isn’t he?” Nanao said, finally.

“Who wouldn’t be?” Rangiku asked.

“Maybe I should--”

There was a crash from the kitchen that sounded like at least half a dozen dishes had abruptly met the floor.

“I’ll deal with it,” Rangiku said, moving Yuki to her shoulder and getting to her feet. “Kin-chan probably decided he’d help with the dishes again.”

Nanao looked uncertain, torn between dealing with the children and Shuhei.

“Go on,” Rangiku said, waving her on. “Take care of your man. It’s not like it’s the first dishwashing disaster I’ve ever dealt with.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Toshiro stared at his father laying far too still in the hospital bed. From this distance he couldn’t even tell for sure if he was breathing, but he couldn’t get any closer. Ichimaru Gin was contained within a near-unbreakable barrier. No one could get in, in case Aizen had left some unknown ally in Seireitei who might want to finish Gin off, and he could not get out, although given the extent of his injuries it was going to be quite some time before he was capable of doing much of anything on his own, much less escaping.

The broken collarbone and shoulder blade and ten splintered ribs along with all the muscle and ligament damage was nothing to the two punctured lungs and a completely severed spinal column. It didn’t really matter that his right shoulder was so badly damaged he couldn’t lift his zanpakuto when he could not currently even feel his legs. It was somehow a frightening thought for Toshiro, realizing that for the time being, his father was completely helpless.

Various captains had looked in on Gin over the last day and a half, and more than one of them had told Toshiro he should go home. They shook their heads when he refused, but they didn’t argue. They knew as well as he did why he was there. He was standing guard.

His father was like this because of him. He didn’t understand what Aizen had been doing or how his father had been involved. No one seemed to know for sure. He knew Gin could still be everything he had suspected him of. He could be a liar and a traitor and a murderer, but the fact that he had saved Toshiro meant that Toshiro was going to have to stand by him and face whatever was coming with him. It was what a son should do.

It was late on the day after Aizen had gone that the general himself finally came to Gin’s room. He arrived with Unohana and Kyoraku in tow. He paused when he saw Toshiro sitting on the near side of the barrier.

“I was told you had recovered,” he said gruffly.

“Yes, sir, I’m fine,” Toshiro answered. It was hard not to be hostile to the man, even knowing the threats he had heard Yamamoto speak, against himself and his siblings, had been one of Aizen's illusions. The pain of the burns and the damage to Hyorinmaru were a lot more real than any assurances anyone could give that the whole thing had been a trap created by Aizen for them both.

“Shouldn’t you be home with your mother?”

Toshiro raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure my mother would agree that this is where I need to be right now.”

“We can’t put it off any longer, Toshiro. We’re going to have to wake him up so we can talk to him. We can’t get anything out of Tosen, and we need to know if there’s any chance Rukia-chan could still be alive,” Kyoraku explained.

Toshiro looked over at Unohana. “You said he needs to stay in a healing coma for a couple more days.”

She nodded gently, looking back at him with obvious pity. “I will only wake him for a few minutes so the general can ask his questions. Then I will send him back to sleep.”

“But you said the coma was the only way to deal with the pain.”

“Your father is a captain of the Gotei 13. Pain alone cannot stop him from doing his duty,” Yamamoto said firmly. “Kuchiki Rukia’s life may well depend on information he alone can give us. Do you really believe he would choose to sleep rather than to help her?”

Toshiro looked back at his father, so still and peaceful. It wasn’t right. Peaceful was not a look that suited Ichimaru Gin. Would he want to help Rukia? Toshiro doubted it, but he was willing to admit that he didn’t know his father as well as he had thought he did. The father he thought he knew would never have faced any pain for anyone, but he had, so maybe, it was possible, maybe, he might care if Rukia lived or died.

“You’d have to ask him,” Toshiro said finally. He didn’t know, but he hoped, he really hoped, for the first time in a long time, that his father would do the right thing.

“It will take me just a few moments to wake him up,” Unohana said.

She stepped forward and raised her hand to the barrier, waiting for it to dissipate at her command before she stepped forward, next to her patient’s bed.

Toshiro stepped forward to watch her. The warm golden glow of healing kido spread from her outstretched hands to engulf his father and slowly he could see signs that Gin was waking up. 

Tension appeared in his once slack features as his brows furrowed and his jaw tightened. His hands no longer lay limp at his sides but dug into the mattress beneath him. And his breathing, which had been so slow and deep as to be almost invisible before began to speed up.

“Captain, it is time to wake up,” Unohana said gently.

Then she looked back, and she motioned to Toshiro. “Come, take his hand,” she instructed him.

Toshiro almost told her she was out of her mind. He hadn’t held his father’s hand since he’d been so little he wasn’t allowed to cross the street on his own, and he didn’t intend to start doing so now, but he did as he was told, and it was frightening how weak the hand that gripped his was.

“Toshiro is here,” Unohana said gently.

Gin’s breathing was growing even more shallow, drawn in hissing breaths between clenched teeth. “Can’t breathe,” he bit out.

“Your lungs are badly damaged, but I promise you can breathe,” Unohana told him. “You need to calm down and try to breathe normally. If you panic you will pass out, and I will have to revive you again.”

For a second Gin seemed to consider that. Then he drew a very slow purposeful breath.

“That’s better, isn’t it?”

Gin opened his eyes just enough to glare at her. Then his gaze dropped to Toshiro. His hand tightened on the boy’s. “You’re not hurt?” he asked in little more than a whisper.

Toshiro forced a smile. “Thanks to you,” he answered.

Immediately, Gin looked away, but his hand still held onto Toshiro.

“Captain Ichimaru,” Yamamoto said loudly.

Gin’s eyes widened, but he did not turn his head in the direction of the general’s voice. He stared, instead, at the ceiling.

“Aizen Sosuke has abandoned Soul Society and fled to Hueco Mundo. He has taken Kuchiki Rukia with him. Can you tell us why?” Yamamoto demanded.

For a moment Gin was silent. He closed his eyes and released Toshiro’s hand before he answered. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“What was the plan?”

“To separate Rukia’s soul from the Hogyoku. With the Sokyoku or a ritual we found in the library at Central 46. She would not be needed afterwards.”

“Then he intends to kill her?” Kyoraku demanded.

Gin was silent for a moment. “Maybe, but he might keep her around to play with--or for bait.”

Toshiro flinched at the phrase ‘to play with’. He did not even want to imagine what Aizen might think to do with Rukia.

“Do you know where he would keep her if she is still alive?”

“Las Noches; he’s the big bad there these days. He could keep her anywhere--but she could already be dead. He’ll let you know one way or the other pretty soon.”

“What do you mean?” Kyoraku asked, sounding just as worried as Toshiro felt.

“He’ll probably send her big brother the body if he kills her--might send it to Abarai instead, though, depends on his mood. If she’s alive he’ll let her contact someone, probably Ichigo.”

“Why would Aizen be interested in Kurosaki Ichigo?” Yamamoto asked.

“No idea, just one of his obsessions,” Gin answered. He drew in a deep breath. “Please, would you tell me, is Ran--is Rangiku safe?”

Toshiro took hold of Gin’s hand again as he answered. “Mom’s fine; Kin-chan and Yuki too. Everyone’s fine, and they’re gonna stay that way too, ok? Don’t worry. I’ll keep them safe.”

Gin did not look at him again, but he did tighten his hand around Toshiro’s. “Good. That’s good.”


	72. Chapter 72

Toshiro did his best not to stare at the empty spaces in the opposing line; three, five, and nine all were empty. Even Komamura and Zaraki with their mass could not make up for the gaps. It could not be ignored. Their loss to Aizen had been severe.

“This meeting has been called because we cannot afford to delay,” General Yamamoto said. “But it is impossible to take any action until we have a clear understanding of the events that have led us to this place. We have taken these past two days to gather all available facts, and now decisions must be made.

“Our difficulties arise from the unfortunate problem that our two best sources of information are of uncertain validity. Urahara Kisuke gave warning to Soul Society one hundred years ago of Aizen and the dangerous experiments he was already conducting, however he himself was convicted of Aizen’s crimes and exiled to the World of the Living.

“Urahara can tell us a great deal about Aizen’s experiments and his eventual goals. He has explained Aizen’s reason for sentencing Kuchiki Rukia to execution by the Sokyoku and explained the powers of the Hogyoku he hid within the girl’s soul. However, we must be aware he does not trust us. 

“When Captain Kyoraku went to him in search of the truth several years ago, Urahara was careful not to share more than he had already said at his own trial, and did not mention the Hogyoku, and again when he sent warning that Rukia could not be allowed to be executed he did not give the reason why. Urahara could easily be continuing to withhold information for his own reasons.

“We believe the information he has shared with us is accurate, but we will continue to verify all that we are able through our own means. We will also urge him, with the assistance of Yoruichi-sama, to trust us, and we have invited him to return to Soul Society to meet with us and help us decide a course of action. So far we have received no answer.

“Our second source could be even more helpful than Urahara Kisuke, but it is also far less trustworthy. Currently Ichimaru Gin is asleep, imprisoned and protected within the Fourth Division, unable to help us, but also unable to betray us if that is his true goal. As long as he remains in this state he is neither useful nor dangerous to us. Containing a captain outside of the Central Prison, especially one with Ichimaru's particular skill set, is challenging, and it would be best if we can decide his fate one way or another before he recovers.

“One of the very few things Tosen has been willing to tell us is that Ichimaru Gin has been deeply involved in Aizen’s plots from the beginning of his time in the Gotei, a fact we have confirmed through Urahara Kisuke. Tosen has also said that Ichimaru was useful to Aizen because he is a killer lacking any moral or ethical compunctions, with absolutely no ability to empathize with any other living being. He stated that the Gotei’s willingness to allow such a man to hold the office of captain was proof of the corruption of the Gotei that drove Tosen himself to turn against us.

“A week ago I might, myself, have agreed with Tosen’s assessment of Ichimaru, but even before the events of two days ago there were events that had led others here to suspect Ichimaru had disguised his true self to infiltrate AIzen’s circle, with the eventual intention of destroying Aizen himself.”

Toshiro listened for the first time to the story of Miyako’s encounter with the Arrancar and the action his father had taken to save her life, and he heard what his father had told Kaien that had led Captains Ukitake and Kyoraku to suspect Aizen and to question Urahara about the incident of one hundred years ago. He learned that without his father’s warnings they would not have suspected Aizen’s corpse was a fake and without Urahara’s warning, which they only received because they had reached out to him, they would have had no idea that Rukia’s execution would threaten the safety of all Soul Society.

Until he heard their stories he had believed that his father had been Aizen’s servant, and he had saved Toshiro only because he wasn’t quite as monstrous as everyone thought. Even an evil man could love his children, and that’s what Toshiro believed Gin was, evil and selfish, but still with just enough feeling left to care about his own family, and Aizen had pushed him one step too far. He had even thought that maybe Gin had reacted before he had thought, and if he’d had the time to consider it, he might not have stepped in Aizen’s way.

But this, he’d never imagined anything like this. His father had been playing a part? He had cared? He had followed Aizen for nearly a century, not out of selfish ambition but because he wanted to destroy him? He had known he could not defeat Aizen face to face because, like Toshiro, he had no way to counter Aizen’s illusions, so he had waited patiently, disguising himself as a monster--

He heard the other captains argue back and forth, mentioning all the crimes that Gin might have been a part of--one murder caught Toshiro’s attention because of the way Soifon looked at him when she brought it up. Gin had been barely older than Toshiro when his senior officer vanished, and he earned his first promotion and gained Aizen’s attention.

Toshiro looked back at her, and he almost told her he agreed, that they couldn’t trust GIn when he had used murder as a tool to earn his place with Aizen, even if his eventual goal had been Aizen’s destruction.

But Ukitake spoke before he could. “We failed Gin, as we have failed other children we’ve brought into the Gotei too young and allowed to face horrors even the oldest of us still struggle to endure. We know better. We know that children should not be soldiers, and usually we use the Academy to allow them to mature. But Ichimaru Gin was brilliant and talented, the sort of genius we see once in a century. We rushed him through the Academy and made him an officer of the Gotei, but he was alone, without any friends or allies, and the man we placed in charge of him was a monster. We did not see it, but he did. 

“We can make accusations and pass judgements, but I, at least, will admit that I would not have helped him. If a new recruit, especially one so young, had come to me, telling me he believed his lieutenant was plotting against Soul Society I would have sent him back to his division with a recommendation to send him to Unohana, and knowing what I now do of Aizen I doubt he would have lived to tell her his fears.

“I personally believe we should pardon the crimes Gin committed in Aizen’s service and use him now to stop Aizen before he can make full use of the Hogyoku.”

“As usual you are too generous, Captain Ukitake. Ichimaru’s only concern has ever been for himself. I’m not surprised he would betray Aizen, but I doubt that makes him a friend of ours,” Byakuya answered. “Use him if you wish, but be sure you keep him on a tight leash. He seems to have a tendency to turn on his masters.”

“Why did he save Shiba Miyako if his motives are selfish?” Komamura asked.

“Hedging his bets, I wouldn’t doubt,” Byakuya answered. “If Aizen failed he could turn to Shiba and say ‘here’s my proof; I was never on Aizen’s side’. We have no way of knowing what his real motive was. Even I will admit Ichimaru is clever enough not to leave any concrete proof either way.”

“You are right,” Kyoraku agreed, looking sad. “We cannot know, and we cannot trust him.” He turned to look at Toshiro as he added, “I hope he is at heart a good man, and I agree that based on the evidence we have we should offer him a pardon and allow him to return to his position as captain. He could be very useful in defeating Aizen, but, as Byakuya says, we must keep him on a short leash. The only question is exactly how we will do that.”

Kurotsuchi, who’d been so bored throughout the meeting that he looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep, suddenly perked up. “I’m sure I could implant some means of destruction within his body, a sort of self-destruct such as I had installed in Nemu--until someone complained.” He rolled his eyes pointedly at Captain Ukitake.

“Rangiku is his leash,” Unohana said, suddenly, in her calm, gentle voice. “I have watched him for many years, trying to pull away from her and yet always returning. It's been a puzzle to me how hard he’s worked to separate himself from her, to make it obvious to everyone he sees her as nothing but a burden. I have never seen a man work so hard to try to hide the fact he loves his wife. It never made any sense at all until now. To protect her from Aizen he needed Aizen to believe she had little value to him, but because he loves her he could never leave her entirely.

“You want a leash to guarantee his behavior? You have it. He will not step out of line if he knows Rangiku will pay for it.”

Toshiro’s mouth fell open. He was absolutely appalled that Unohana of all people would suggest using his mother like that.

“You may be right,” Byakuya answered. “But if you are not, do you think an innocent woman should have to pay the price for Ichimaru’s heartlessness?”

“I am right. I would not suggest it otherwise. A leash is only as useful as the hold it has on the one you want chained,” Unohana answered. “A threat to Rangiku’s life will contain Gin a thousand times better than any threat to his own.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

Gin opened his eyes slowly to stare at the blank white ceiling. He was vaguely aware this was not the first time he had woken up. He had a faint memory of pain and people asking questions, and Shiro--that part had to be a dream. He couldn’t imagine Shiro beside him, holding his hand, telling him everything would be alright. Shiro was more likely to--

“How could you?” Shiro’s voice hit him suddenly, the accusation in his question clear.

That was much more like it, Gin thought as he turned his head slowly to look at his eldest child.

Toshiro was glaring at him as he sat at his bedside with his arms folded across his chest.

Gin smiled back at him. It was nice to find he wasn’t behind bars. He could feel the barrier on his room, but, still, better than prison. He wondered vaguely if that was only temporary. But so much more important than that was the fact that Toshiro was sitting there, beside him, with no sign of injury at all. It was one of the most wonderful things he’d ever seen in his entire life. “I love you, Shiro,” he said softly.

Toshiro stared at him like he’d gone mad. “The hell you do,” he said finally.

Gin shrugged vaguely. He wasn’t going to argue the point. It really wasn’t surprising the boy doubted him. He was fairly sure he’d never told him he loved him before. “How’s your mom?”

Toshiro’s glare grew darker. “She’s fine, no thanks to you.”

“You let her go home?”

“Couldn’t convince her to leave you for good.”

“No?”

Toshiro stared back at him, like he needed to say something, but he couldn’t quite figure out how. “How could you work with Aizen?” he asked, finally. “Even to try to stop him--how could you? They’re saying you watched while he tortured people and killed them. You even helped him. You killed people for him!” The boy fairly burned with fury. His rage was something to behold. The reiatsu within him became an overwhelming force, crumbling any weaker will that even tried to approach.

To Gin’s eyes it was absolutely beautiful. One day this boy would not only be able to destroy him, but also every other captain, even the general, even Aizen. The strength of his reiatsu alone would be enough. Soul Society was more fortunate than anyone had ever realized that Toshiro, wielder of ice and lord of winter, had inherited his mother’s heart.

“I did,” Gin admitted, and he watched, unsurprised, as Toshiro’s rage collapsed, and tears began to spill down his cheeks.

He was still just a child. As much as he’d long distrusted and even suspected Gin, he was still far too young to learn his father was one of the real monsters. He needed his father to be better than that, stronger than that. Gin felt sick with shame, knowing how far short he had fallen of what he should have been, of what his family needed him to be.

The path he’d long seen as the only path, he now saw as the wrong path. He hadn’t seen the other choices, sometimes out of fear and weakness, but too often because of his own arrogant belief that he could handle things on his own. He had discovered evil, but instead of running, instead of looking for help, he’d dived in, determined to destroy it, maybe, but allowing it to stain his soul in the process.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Toshiro shook his head. “They can’t trust you,” he said, finally. “You’re a liar and a murderer, and they need you, but they can’t trust you.”

“What?” Gin asked, and at the distress in the boy’s voice he felt a new fear. Something was very wrong.

Toshiro raised his head. The trails of his earlier tears still stained his face, but the emotions now in his eyes were contained; pain, fear, rage, everything and more, Gin could see being held in check in Shiro’s ice-cold gaze.

“You’re free,” Toshiro said, each word clipped and controlled. “Soon as you’re well you can go home. They’re not going to charge you with anything. You’ll be expected to help in the fight against Aizen like the rest of us. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” Gin repeated.

Toshiro stared back at him. Again he looked like he couldn’t find the words he needed to speak.

“Shiro?” Gin said, and he lifted his hand and placed it on top of his son’s, squeezing it with what little strength he had. “I’ve failed you, I know, and you don’t trust me, and that’s probably smart, but you have something you need to tell me so just tell me. It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” Toshiro answered. “But there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s all on you. Mom’s going to be under guard until Aizen is defeated, and if you do anything that even looks like you might try to betray Soul Society they’re going to lock her in the Nest of Maggots.”

Gin’s eyes widened. “Shiro,” he breathed, unable to think of anything he could say that could possibly be any comfort now.

“I asked them not to tell her. I don’t want her to have to tell us she’s not worried; I already know she trusts you. She shouldn’t have to waste her energy trying to reassure me.”

“I--” Gin began, but he really had nothing to say.

“I think I do believe you were planning to try to kill Aizen. I think that probably is true, but I think you probably have had chances you didn’t take, because you really didn’t have the guts to just do it. So now I guess I’m mostly hoping you don’t have the guts to do anything that will put Mom in danger because you know that I do and I will hunt you down and kill you if you betray her.” 

Gin nodded slowly. “I know you cannot trust me or believe anything I say, but if they hurt Ran because of me, I will thank you when you kill me.”


	73. Chapter 73

Gin knew he was lucky, beyond lucky, to be going home at all, but considering the price if he did anything anyone didn’t like, he wished they’d just thrown him into the deepest darkest prison they could find and forgotten about him. But they needed him, or they thought they did, and he had to admit he might be useful. So all he had to do was not screw up.

Which honestly sounded easier than facing a Rangiku who’d been under house arrest since Aizen’s faked death. She could not possibly be in a good mood at this point.

“But did she seem relaxed, calm, or calm before the storm, calm?” he tried asking Kira.

His lieutenant looked up at him with a lost expression. “I'm not sure, sir,” he said uneasily.

Gin sighed. It might have been wise to choose a slightly more perceptive lieutenant, though, honestly, those were next to non-existent. Kira still seemed to be on his side which was impressive all on it’s own. Most people looked at him without even bothering to hide their hostility anymore.

With Rangiku he would just have to see. There was no way of guessing what kind of greeting he would be getting. She’d had her lovely rose-colored glasses violently torn away and had been shown with perfect clarity exactly what kind of a man she had married.The shock had been almost too much for Toshiro, and the boy had never really liked him much in the first place. He could not begin to guess how Rangiku was dealing with it.

She was still there, apparently waiting for him to come home. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

He sighed again, realizing they'd reached the captain’s quarters. He looked up at the traditional house with its rice paper walls glowing a gentle gold with lamplight. Both the main living room and the boys’ room had lights still shining. He wondered for a moment if Yuki was asleep in their room or if she was still up and fussing at Ran.

He said, “Good night, Kira, and thank you.” Then he stepped up and pulled open the front door.

He heard Kira’s faint voice whisper, “Good luck, sir.” Before he pulled the door shut behind him.

“I'm home,” he said softly as he stepped out of his sandals and up onto the polished wood floor of the entry. The kitchen on the right side of the hall was dark and empty, but there was no surprise there. They rarely used the kitchen.

He turned to the first shoji door on the left and slowly slid it open. His eyes took in the familiar room quickly. It was an odd match of tradition and modern comfort. The floor was the gentle yellowed green of new tatami, and the walls were shoji and painted panels. There was a kotatsu in the middle of the room, as usual piled with half-sorted laundry. There was a pretty nook with a vase of beautiful blue hydrangeas and a stair-step chest of drawers, only most of the drawers were half-open and overflowing with children's toys and knickknacks from the World of the Living. Children's toys were scattered across the floor along with books, pages of Kinta’s drawings, and manga. Yuki was asleep in a loudly colored baby swing that rocked automatically and played unfamiliar lullabies from the World of the Living. Rangiku was laying across the couch in a sleeping kimono.

She sat up the moment he opened the door, and stared at him.

“Tadaima,” he repeated softly.

“O-kairi,” she answered in a whisper.

He crossed the room, quietly, and dropped down onto the floor in front of her, careful not to disturb the sleeping baby.

“I need to put Yuki to bed,” Rangiku whispered, and hopped to her feet, whisking the baby from the room without another word.

Gin sat and waited, wondering what he would do if she decided to leave. Years ago he had been certain he could live his whole life without her, keeping her safe from a distance, making sure the darkness never touched her again. He couldn’t even imagine it now. Not seeing her, speaking to her, touching her, every single day was unbearable, even to consider. He had been determined to leave with Aizen, but only because it was his only choice, his only chance to find a way to stop the bastard before he destroyed everything.

But now that plan had failed. He had no more idea how to fight Aizen than anyone else. He had no hope. If he lost Rangiku as well--

He shook his head to drive away the dark thoughts and hopped to his feet. He figured he might as well make himself useful so he gathered up the scattered books and shoved them into the top shelf of a closet hidden by a sliding panel. He frowned for a moment, realizing how few of the books stacked in the deep closet actually belonged to him, but decided this was really probably not the best time to worry about that, and quickly gathered up the kids toys and stuffed them into the bottom of the closet. Kinta’s art went into the trash; the child was unbelievably prolific and it was all drawn on the back of division work orders and records anyway. Then the laundry got shoved back into its basket and carried to the kitchen--out of sight, out of mind, right?

But then he saw the kitchen. There were dirty dishes and open food containers everywhere. Since when did the family not just eat in the division mess hall? He sighed as he considered the prospect of washing dishes. Maybe he should just get some trainee to do them in the morning. That was the usual procedure when he or Rangiku got ambitious enough to actually attempt to cook.

That was probably the best call. Instead of worrying about the mess he started a pot of water boiling and began to search out the tea.

“The good tea’s in the bottom of the rice.”

Gin pulled his head out of a cabinet and turned to face Rangiku. She was leaning against the doorframe, smiling at him. “Shiro-chan likes to make ten cups a day so I hid the good stuff. He can use division tea leaves,” she added.

He watched as she calmly crossed the room and shoved her arm, elbow-deep, into a bushel bag of rice and pulled out a tea tin. “Going to have to find a new place, though,” she added, handing the tin over. “Shiro’s discovered he likes making rice.”

“Oh,” Gin said softly. Kira was right; her calm was hard to read. He honestly couldn’t tell if Rangiku was just too tired to be angry or if she was gathering her reserves so she could murder him in a few minutes.

He turned the tin over in his hands a few times. He could remember when she had bought him this tea for the first time, years ago when a high quality tea had been a splurge. She had gone out to join some of her friends at a sakeya and had come back alone less than an hour later. He’d asked if her friends had cancelled, and she shook her head and said, “Nope, I just missed you.”

“Ran,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Your water’s boiling.”

“Ran,” he broke off as she turned and walked back to the living room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk about it, Rangiku thought as she watched Gin set down the tea tray and carefully pour out two cups of tea. The problem was that she really had no idea where to begin. When you learned that the man you had loved and lived with for nearly a century had been a part of a vast and truly evil conspiracy, lying to everyone inside and outside the conspiracy, playing games inside games inside games, what on earth did you ask? Could you demand the truth? Was there even a truth at all or was his existence so tangled up in lies that any truth had long since been swallowed up in strategem?

She’d known for years that there were things he was hiding from her. That he would lie to her to protect her was one of the very first things she had ever known about Ichimaru Gin. But she’d also seen in his actions, over and over again, that he cared. It wasn’t just her he watched over and protected. He avoided making friends but those few he had he would do anything for, and as a leader he had never risked the lives of his men. They had no idea how carefully he assigned their duties, always making sure every team was balanced and no weakness in any member would put them or the other members of their team in jeopardy. And the training they complained so much about, that they seemed to think was only about humiliating them, made them stronger, faster, and forced them to think before they acted; they learned skills that kept them alive, even if he did enjoy making the learning process as miserable as possible. And he loved the children; he had to. He’d nearly died to protect Toshiro. That was real, wasn’t it? Even if everything else he had said or done was a lie, he had to have taken that blow meant for Toshiro because he loved him.

“Ran,” he said softly, and she looked up, startled out of her thoughts. “Your tea’s getting cold.”

She smiled. “I’m used to that,” she said softly. “Shiro-chan’s always serving it chilled.”

“The little show-off,” Gin mumbled as he raised his cup to his lips.

“Like father, like son,” Rangiku answered.

“I’m not--” Gin started to protest but knew that was not an argument he wanted to win. I am a show-off except for the fact that I never showed off exactly what I could do so I would always be underestimated, really didn’t seem like a good way to start this conversation.

Rangiku stared at him for a moment, like she could guess his thoughts. “You saved his life. He told me, you got in front of him just in time to take the blow Aizen intended for him. He thought you had died, and he felt so bad because he realized he didn’t even know you, because he never would have dreamed you would die for him.”

Gin frowned. “It’s what dads do,” he said finally.

“I know,” she agreed. “It’s why I think maybe this is real. Our home. Our family. You and me. We are real, aren’t we, Gin?”

“What--”

“We’re not just another game, are we? I remember after the Academy, when I first became a shinigami, you avoided me. You’d only talk to me if I chased you down. And then you wanted to be with me, but you wanted to keep us secret, and you wanted me to give up Shiro!” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to pull together her frayed nerves, so she could express the question she needed answered. “You changed your mind so suddenly. Is Aizen the reason you married me? Is Aizen the only reason we have a family?”

Gin looked down at the cup in his hand, a simple piece of earthenware pottery, just another piece of the life they had created together. It had been such a long time, decade after decade. He’d almost forgotten how it had started, that it wasn’t a path he had chosen for himself.

He suddenly wished she had hit him, that she had yelled and screamed and threatened to leave. Anything would have been better than this. “I only wanted to keep you safe,” he answered slowly. “Everything has been for you, Ran. Everything from the very beginning; all I’ve ever wanted was to protect you.”

“But you didn’t want to marry me,” she said softly.

“I was already in over my head,” he said softly. It was agony to admit, even to himself, that the plan he’d made and worked toward for nearly his entire life, had been too much from the very beginning. He had never been in control. He’d been nothing but Aizen’s puppet. Playing the part of a heartless monster had made him useful to Aizen, just as he’d intended. He had become Aizen’s right hand, even more useful than Tosen. There was no direction he had ever questioned; he would do anything. Anything for power, he had said, but anything for Rangiku was closer to the truth.

Aizen must have seen through him. As he pushed Gin on to more and more monstrous deeds, he must have been watching, waiting for the moment Gin would break, and it would all be too much. Aizen must have loved the moment when Gin stepped in front of Toshiro. He had finally forced Gin to discard his mask. “I thought I was fighting against him. I told myself I was learning his secrets and biding my time. I was using him to make myself strong enough to destroy him, but I was lying to myself, just like I lie to everyone else. I had given him my life. He decided everything.” Gin raised his eyes to Rangiku. “All I wanted was to keep you safe, and I knew you could never be safe as long as you were near me.”

“So you pushed me away,” Rangiku said slowly.

“But you wouldn’t be pushed. You kept coming back, and I wasn’t strong enough to stay away. I failed you, Ran, in so many ways. I put you in danger, and the children, we should never--”

“Don’t, please,” Rangiku cut him off. “They are beautiful and wonderful and perfect. Please don’t say they never should have been.”

“They are somewhat exceptional,” he said, forcing a smile.

Rangiku nodded. “They are worth the risk.”

“When I think what Aizen may do to them--”

“We will protect them.”

“We won’t even see him coming,” Gin said, and for the first time Rangiku saw the fear and despair he had hidden from her for all those years. He was looking at her like she was already dead. He believed their doom was already written. All he was doing now was waiting for the end to come. “I’m so sorry, Ran.”

She reached out and took hold of his pale hand. “You know, there’s one thing you always overlook when you make your plans. You’re not alone. All this time you’ve always thought it was just you against him, but it’s not true. You are only one of eleven captains, and I know you don’t believe it, but they are just as strong and just as smart as you, and they are just as determined to defeat Aizen as you are. There are thousands of shinigami, and all of us are going to do everything we can. Even the Ryoka are going to help us. All of us working together, to me that’s hope. He may be strong and he may be smart, but he can’t be better than all of us. Not together.”

Rangiku watched his expression change as she spoke. He watched her with a sort of fascination and wonder, a smile growing on his face. “That’s my Rangiku,” he said. “Tell her the world’s ending, and she laughs and says she’ll get her friends on that. It’s no wonder everyone loves you. The only puzzle is why you’re here with me.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Three kids in and you still haven’t figured that out? You must be the stupidest genius I’ve ever met.”

“If you made any sort of sense you would hate me. I’ve brought you shame and humiliation and pain. I’ve put you in mortal danger. I’ve put your children in danger. I very nearly got Toshiro killed, and I’ve lied to you without ceasing since the very beginning. You should hate me. I know you never will, but I can’t understand why.”

“Do you love me?” she asked, abruptly.

He smiled at that. In all these years he never had told her. He wasn’t even sure why. At first he had told himself it was because he had to keep her at a distance; it was a part of keeping her safe, but that was probably a lie, like everything else. It hadn’t been about protecting her, it had been about him. Shiro was right. He was a coward. He never took a chance, not even with Ran, and with her he knew it had never been a risk. There’d never been a time when she wasn’t absolutely and completely his. 

“You know I do,” he said slowly; his heart was racing like some kid confessing his first love. What a fool he was. There was nothing to be afraid of, and, after all this time, she deserved to hear it. “I love you, Rangiku.”

Her eyes widened and tears began to form in the corners. 

Gin spoke again quickly to cut her off before she started to cry. He wasn’t yet brave enough for that. “You’ve always known, right from the beginning,” he said, quickly, in the most careless tone he could manage. “Call me a genius if you’d like, Ran, but you’ve always been the smart one. You’ve always been able to see straight through me.”

She smiled, tears delayed a little longer. “Then why is it so hard for you to see that I love you too?” she asked. “If you know I can see through all your masks then why should it surprise you that I can love the real you no matter which mask you wear?”

The real him? She saw through him in so many ways but how could she possibly love the real him? “The real me is no more worth loving than any other part I play,” he answered her, looking down at the dark wood grain of the tabletop. “The real me chose those parts, after all.”

“The real you is a starving little boy who offered a starving little girl some food and gave her a home. The real you is a boy who saw a monster of unbelievable power and resolved to destroy it no matter what it cost him. The real you is a man who taught his tiny son to hide his reiatsu so the Gotei would not make him into a soldier and he could have a childhood. The real you is a man who risked everything to save his friend’s wife, and the real you very nearly died for his son. That’s the real you, Gin. That’s the you I love.”

“Not the asshole who makes the nobility in his squad do all the cleaning just so he can tell them off for doing it wrong and make them do it again?” he said, forcing a joking tone.

“Oh, I definitely love that asshole--you think I want to clean this house myself?” Rangiku said with an answering smile.

He really smiled then. “That’s good because I’m pretty sure nothing less than death will ever take him from your side, and death is going to have to put up a very good fight because I’m not going to go easy.”

“I love you, Ichimaru Gin, and I always will.”  
“Do you love me enough to let me come to bed with you?” he asked.

She lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him. It was a terrible fault of theirs, turning to the physical when words were hard. There was so much she needed to ask and he needed to explain. There was still no trust, no truth, no certainty, but as long as she was in his arms it didn’t matter. She could never doubt his love as long as his hands were on her. When she was in his arms she felt so completely loved and treasured, she could not imagine there was anyone in the universe who should not envy her.

“Mom, Dad?” Toshiro’s voice shattered the moment. “Can we come in?”

Rangiku jerked away from Gin, straightening her kimono automatically. “Yes, of course,” she answered quickly.

The door slid open as Gin turned to face them. The two brothers stood hand in hand, for a moment just staring at their father. Toshiro’s expression was hard. He had gained a greater understanding of his father over the past few days, but while he looked at Gin with greater concern than he had ever shown in the past, his frowning gaze still showed suspicion.

Kinta, though only half Toshiro’s age, reached his brother’s shoulder. He was so like his mother with his golden red curls and bright eyes. He looked toward his father hopefully, with the absolute love and trust most children might show. “Daddy?” he said, an edge of fear in his eager voice.

“Kinta had to see you’re alright,” Toshiro explained.

“Hey, Kin-chan,” Gin said, smiling at the boy.

Kinta released Toshiro and rushed into his father’s arms. “Daddy! I missed you!” he cried.

Gin hugged him tight. “I missed you too, Kin-chan.”

Rangiku smiled at Kinta and Gin, and her eyes went to Toshiro still standing in the doorway. The boy was so serious and so determined to be strong, but she could see the jealousy in his eyes as he watched his brother so easily and naturally welcome their father home.

She reached out a hand to Toshiro, beckoning him in. He frowned back at her, but he came, with a great show of reluctance. He walked slowly into the room and stopped just beside his father and brother, looking awkward and uncomfortable.

“Oh, come here, Shiro,” Gin said and grabbed Toshiro by the wrist, dragging him into the hug.

Rangiku had to bite back the urge to laugh. Toshiro was still managing to look unhappy, but he was hugging Gin just as tight as Kinta was. He might not want to admit it, but he needed his daddy too.

Owari

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s the end of The Best Mistake. I have a sequel that I will probably begin posting soon, but for now I hope everyone has enjoyed this. I hope I managed to capture Gin and Rangiku’s awful and wonderful characters and they acted in ways that are true to how Kubo wrote them. That, for me, was the most important thing—  
> And isn’t little Toshiro the cutest! I could read young Toshiro fics all day! I love him so much!  
> Anyway, until next time Jya-ne!


End file.
